Beauty is often a difficult thing to find.
We may scour and scour the world,
Our minds and hearts
And never find it.
Beauty is a funny thing, though...

A fourteen year old boy
Sits in his living room
Strumming on his old guitar
Just trying to get all the chords right.
He ponders a future
Bigger than anything he has ever witnessed.
But he knows it exists somewhere.

Rock and roll tickles his fancy
As he attempts to stumble through adolescence.
Yes, he is plagued by many misfortunes.
But with "a little help from his friends,"
He stands victorious.
He knows no boundaries.
He holds the world by its throat,
It seems.

He grows;
Together, apart, up, down,
And sideways.
He leaves his heart
As "an open book."
He will never back down
For he is blessed.

Platinum warriors fend for him
During all of his battles
As they remind him of his goal.
He realizes it
And begins to venture into the unknown.

With uncertainty alive
In the world and his eyes,
He leaps.
Into a world unknown
Yet ever so beautiful...

Misfortune falls
After so many accomplishments.
He sheds a tear or two
But you can see his beauty shine through
As he picks himself up
And carries on.

Tragedy has a way of capturing us as humans.
It has a way of trapping and tormenting us.
It has a way of masking and silencing inner beauty.
But it also has a way of pushing us.
Not only over the edge,
But over our inhibitions.
Beauty has a way of being very elusive
But not to this boy
And soon to be man.

A fourteen year old boy
Sits in his living room
Strumming on his old guitar
Just trying to get all the chords right.
He ponders a future
Bigger than anything he has ever witnessed.
But he knows it exists somewhere.

He picks out one after another
And allows his dreams to take flight.
His mind is open
And his heart is true.

The young boy spreads his wings
And exhales a deep, longing breath.
He takes a hopeful look over the cliff
And throws himself off.
He is ready for whatever may come.
A Hofner and his dreams are his only companions.