In the realm of youth, where dreams take flight, A young man stands, ready to fight. With fire in his eyes and dreams untamed, He sets forth on a path where he'll be named.

No silver spoon nor fortunes grand, He's born to hustle, in a rugged land. The streets become his classroom, rough and tough, Learning lessons not found in books enough.

A man at tender age, forced to grow, Responsibilities he's come to know. No time for innocence or childish play, He must seize the night, make his own way.

His hands bear calluses, his back's bowed low, Shouldering burdens that others won't know. He navigates the alleys, the urban maze, Crafting his destiny in industrious days.

Each dawn he rises, with purpose in stride, An unwavering spirit, he cannot hide. For within his heart, a burning desire, To transcend the struggles, reach higher and higher.

He hustles with grit, no task too small, Turning setbacks into fuel to stand tall. From street corners to boardrooms, he'll rise, Defying the odds, to claim his prize.

Though shadows may loom and doubts may sway, He presses on, undeterred, come what may. For deep within his core, a lion roars, The spirit of resilience forever soars.

So let the world tremble and bear witness, To the young man's strength, his fearless bliss. Through the hustle and grind, he'll forge his way, A testament to what a man can convey.

In youth's embrace, a hustler he's become, A beacon of hope when the odds succumb. For in his story, we all find a spark, That in life's challenges, we too can embark.

So let us raise a toast to the young and bold, The hustlers of youth, who dare to be sold. For they pave the path with tenacity and zeal, Writing a tale that time cannot conceal.