Many men live on this earth, For some great fame is destined from birth Geniouses, warlords, conquerors, and kings Fill volumes of history and other such things Their deeds are those of which the bard sings Sages ponder and think 'bout their lives Historians compile and write great archives Of every thing, in life they achieve Of ever tiny creed they believe Then there's the average farmer chap Who's greatest decisions are whether to nap, Who's jobs require nought but the strength To plow a field, or measure its length.
And yet, the geniouses crazily drink Warlords slaughter millions without a blink, Conquerors think themselves gods of love, And kings...
well...
all the above So, in the end, is it not much better To smoke a pipe on the porch, wearing a sweater? Is it not so much better, in life, To honor God, one's children and wife? People always wish to be famous, or to own a lot of money, or to have a lot of power, etc.
etc.
But in reality, what do all these things bring us? If you think about the lives of famous and powerful people, they are miserable.
But then look at your average Joe, who has a family, is married, has a decent job...
These people can be perfectly happy.
So, to put all this in perspective, I wrote a little poem on the matter, and for obvious reasons, I entitled it 'Of Farmes and Kings'.
As the last line of the poem goes.