Look at me I do decay.
I’m withered and worn in every way.
But a change occurs within my heart,
And this, my son, is how it starts:
With dreams of passion growing deep,
My swelling heart won’t miss a beat,
Embracing dreams, ambitions drive;
The stigma of my heart’s own cry.
I am but simply what you see,
Until I rise passionately.
Then I become a man of dreams,
Overflowing with vitality.
Now learn this my son, my legacy;
Though I do look worn and elderly,
I am fueled and driven still,
By persistence and a passionate will.
So as you age just as I,
Look with hope, do not deny;
The ability within your heart,
To live a life of passionate art.