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May 17, 2014

Fame is a fickle food by Emily Dickinson

Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set
Whose crumbs the crows inspect
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the
Farmer’s corn
Men eat of it and die

Posted by gerardvanderleun at May 17, 2014 5:54 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.

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