I've heard many people say that I'll go far

say I have a passion that burns like fire

but sometimes I choke on the smoke

that clouds my lungs

I spit out ash instead of words 

I try to breathe and all I smell are burning dreams

No one tells you how passion can burn you

and no phoenix rises from your ashes

you become a build-up of ashes

layered upon each other until it becomes soil

to lay down a new seed

Next time I will build a passion that grows

that I nourish with discipline, habits, and love

that I can touch without fear

that can sprout again after a hard winter

One day I'll grow my passion into a tree

and feed the world with the fruit