Is it the greatness of your art

Is it the greatness of your art or intellect,
that you proclaim for all the world to see.
That my thoughts and wit would appear reject,
and wither upon the vine with me.
Is it your beauty and wisdom that astound.
That’s alien to this world that strikes me dumb.
No, neither you nor the masses you confound,
That words which flowed so freely will not come.
You with that simple vacant stare,
that underpins the hollows of your mind.
You, should not presume to dare,
that your fame, has my thoughts maligned.
But when your art has won the day,
then mine is helpless to teach or sway.

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