Those lofty mansions I have built,
Flotsam castles out of reach.
Ever above where eagle's dwell,
Far beyond steep mountain's peak.
To most morose and practical,
I am a fool who can't achieve.
The crowning touch so magical,
Of meshing efforts with destiny.
Yet those without the will to climb,
Who sit their sights on smaller deeds.
Lack a will shooting for moon's shine,
To end up with their slice of cheese.
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6 old applause
