The Retreater (a poem) by Rick Rourke

He worked all the day and then toiled by night
He gave up play time, and some forms of delight

Dry books did he read, as he struggled to learn
Forge on he did though, and success did he earn

He did this with faith, self-reliance, and pluck
But then when he won, they called it just luck

They looked upon him with their envious eyes
And attacked his success with all of their lies

Rally they did, instead of do work
Demanding equality, at opposition they smirk

For equal result, and redistribution of wealth
Was promised to them, beginning with health

Why toil, and work, when you can just rant
Have fun as a grasshopper, not a hard working ant

Have fun until winter, which will eventually come
And with bounties all taxed, they will not have a crumb