Each wrinkle in his ancient face <br />Bespeaks a monumental deed. <br />Serenely there with pride he sits, <br />No longer longing to succeed: <br />For of success he's had his fill, <br />And of rewards he takes no heed. <br />He needs no praise or compliments; <br />He's loved by those who write and read; <br />Nor does he need that doc-ument <br />Which boorish boobies badly need. <br /> <br />With his unlit cigar he mocks <br />The paragons of self-conceit, <br />Whose only aim is to impress, <br />Whose only task is to compete, <br />Who think they know what they know not, <br />Who see themselves as the elite. <br /> <br />Tormented by the vast contrast, <br />I stand up and just leave my seat.<br /><br />Saleh Badrah<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/abdullah-abdul-jabbar/
