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.