Success At Last
I used to harbor lofty dreams
Of winning wealth and fame.
I vainly dreamed about a time
When the world would know my name.
But time and those rejection slips
Have tempered my wild dreams.
The ceaseless grind of passing years
Has mellowed me, it seems.
So now I breathe, create, and write
Simply because I must.
No longer do I crave those things
For which I used to lust.
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