Fame.

Long before there was heroin or methadone,
There was fame.

When you want the crowds to adore you,
No other love seems good enough.

But being loved doesn’t make you a hero,
Loving others does.

And fame is like a shadow:
It disappears when the light gets brighter
Somewhere else.

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “Fame.”

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