My Teacher's More Famous Student

Although he is no longer young
He still is lauded now, by some,
And has devoted followers
        Who, when he reads, do come
To hear the lyric lilting sung
        As he recites his verse.

Yet even so, to hear him talk,
But how he rails against the rich,
Especially the rich versifiers
        Who’ve found a lofty niche,
Which thought but causes him to balk
        And vent his angry ires.

Does he resent them for their wealth
Or rather that their coterie
Does not include himself, a prole
        By self-description? We
Know not how reputation’s health
        May soothe, or pique the soul.

Yet, let me not grow bitter, Lord,
That have not known success at all,
For I observe that attitude
        Comes first before a fall,
So let me stroll toward peace and toward
        Acceptance, time-accrued.

It is the only avenue
A man like me may stroll, because
Having known less than he, much less
        Of worldly profit, thus
It were a foolish thing to do
        To hanker for success.