You are the reason I wake up every morning.

There is an old man who had a round tummy.
 Everyday I pass him early in the morning.
Some days, he's in a jumpsuit.
Other days, he's in a cut out shirt and baggy shorts.
He listens to his music, with sturdy, large headphones.
I want to know what he listens to, what urges him on.
He used to walk slowly, up and down the street.
Not anymore. He runs without stopping. Without defeat.
Now, There is an old man,
But the round tummy can no longer be found.