Footprint.

Footprint.

The road which is infront of my house,
is covered with dust
and still I can find the print,
of my forefather's transiate feet.

The road is made of clay and dust.
It becomes muddy in rainy
and dry in summer
but it is the witness of our lives,daily.

Now it lays opening its brest
and receives our arrogant footstep.
But the days will come,
when only footprint will lay deep.

My successors will say
"It is the road,
which was used by my forefathers,
and now we'll keep our footprints,
on its clods of mud.