The older you get, the more you’ve got to give away;
Life’s not some damn candle burning to the end.
What you’ve picked up, what you’ve learned along the way,
Is meant for someone else, my friend.
Nature didn’t hand you all this just to hoard;
She fronted you the cash and wants returns.
Pass on the spark instead of guarding every board;
That’s how the whole damn fire still burns.
Wisdom, scars, good stories—that’s the real gold now.
Looks fade, sure… welcome to the bloody club.
But leave a mark somehow, don’t ask me how—
Raise a kid, teach a trade, write a book, start a pub.
Because if everyone just lived for number one,
This whole beautiful mess would be completely fucking done.
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Couldn’t agree more!