Fame is a fickle food upon a shifting plate

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Fickle food upon a shifting plate

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
Farmer’s corn;
Men eat of it and die.

by Emily Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886)
from – The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
image – enersauce

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