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.