Stays in the Heart

Footsteps written in the quiet of the day, Soft as clouds that slowly carry time away. Nothing shouts, yet something chooses to remain, A passing moment we will never feel again. And when the sun moves on, we’ll understand— Some days don’t stay in time, they stay in who we are. It fades from the clock, but stays in the heart, A spark in the dark, a permanent mark. One breath, one laugh, one beautiful start, It lives, it stays, it’s held in the heart. Pictures made of sunlight, gentle and unplanned, Tiny fleeting miracles we never tried to brand. No stage, no crowd, just truth without a frame, But memory keeps the glow without needing a name. And when the night moves in, we’ll understand— Some days don’t stay in time, they stay in who we are. It fades from the clock, but stays in the heart, A spark in the dark, a permanent mark. One breath, one laugh, one beautiful start, It lives, it stays, it’s held in the heart. If days are visitors, let this one be art, Not written in hours—written in the heart. It fades from the clock, but stays in the heart, A spark in the dark, a permanent mark. One smile, one moment, one perfect start, Forever held—right here in the heart.