They say that success Can be broken down Into fractions They say it’s a mere one Percent talent With ninety-nine Percent work But without motivation This equation Is incomplete

What is it like to be so highly revered, That your very word is authority? Do masters ever feel slighted That hours of work, years, Labouring onward Through dulled eyes and hazy minds Were dismissed as ‘genius’? A born prodigy. A lack of talent may…