Emily Dickensonson says that fame is a fickle food, but I say.
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OK let’s sober up with Emily Dickenson’s poem from Poets.org
Fame is a fickle food (1659)
|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.