Still on MJ

I thought I'd share this Emily Dickson's poem on Fame. It gives one a reason to ponder.

Fame is a Fickle Food


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 Famer's Corn--
Men eat of it and die.
(Emily Dickinson)