Fame is a fickle foodUpon a shifting plateWhose table once aGuest but notThe second time is setWhose crumbs the crows inspectAnd with ironic cawFlap past it to theFarmer’s cornMen eat of it and die
Fame is a fickle foodUpon a shifting plateWhose table once aGuest but notThe second time is setWhose crumbs the crows inspectAnd with ironic cawFlap past it to theFarmer’s cornMen eat of it and die
Fame is definitely fleeting!
Amen to that!