When just a child the poet's mom said "Son,
Throughout your life beware the sin of pride.
Remember this when every day is done,
What counts the most is who you are inside."
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At first he thought his mother's words unfair
For recognition surely has its place.
In time he witnessed prideful thoughts can flare
When undue adulation supplants grace.
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The poet took to heart his mother's words
Too many accolades can turn your head.
Vainglory flits away on wings of birds
What's left is mostly emptiness and dread.
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Life immersed in modest exhibition
Satisfied with honorable mention
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Mark Toney © 2019
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11/18/2019 - Poetry form: Sonnet