Did the songwriter write me a song or verse?
And add a melody in honor of me?
Did an orchestra play before a silenced crowd?
My beauty on display for all to see?

Did the sculptor etch me in his bust?
Exposed to all,  only knowing trust.
Taking care with talented stroke.
With focused eyes and masking cloak.

Did the Canadian poet have me in mind?
In the beautiful words he can easily find.
Whose works, uncensored, like a child at play.
Pen, purely mimics, what my soul wants to say.

I'd like to think I may have inspired,
A great man to do something great.
Even if only to transcend a moment;
And seize eternity before it's too late.