Life is a passing page that tries not to fade
Memories are but a passage of footsteps
Flipping from past to present looking back on what I resent
The worst days to birthdays make who I am my name
Can't be astray from a path cannot fulfill
The goal of life is death but it leaves us all distressed
Our legacy is merely determined by who remembers us
Eventually we all just leave our footsteps bound to the ground
The mound of who we once were, but a mark in the earth
For now I can't see how big or wide those footsteps may be
But telling myself they are there helps me sleep.