Who knows how one begins to feel such pride,
Such admiration for the other's work
That visions rise and in one's heart abide?
Yet, nonetheless, within, doubt's shadows lurk.
For as the acts of others bring one joy,
Does pride diminish? Soon, left in its place:
A certain self-indulgent arrogance.
And so, we turn and to the mirror face
Our own desires; our needs; our wants; our fears
That manifest and in accordance lay
Between mere cordial words in other's ears
And words writ on the heart that ever say,
"For you, and you alone, I thank above
As pride's but yet another way to love."
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