Sonnets for Ale (xxxiv.)

Forgetting how the fickle world forsakes
the man enamored of his own romance,
a would-be great man frequently mistakes
mere tricks and shortcuts for his one true chance.
He tilts at glory and he basks in fame
as sycophants withhold what he needs hear,
unable to accept when he’s to blame,
not knowing which direction he should steer.
Know your own worth despite the passing crowd
and not because it celebrates your rise,
for the world’s regard often is a shroud
made ready long before a person dies.
A leader finds his purpose in his core,
not in the image worshippers adore.