‘Tis what is written that counts,
What is said is no demonstration.
And what is thought to naught amounts,
Except to selfish exultation.

There, on the page stated,
Though it may have passed thy lips,
‘Tis that which is rated,
By mindless, tyrannical whips.

Remember what is said, and there;
Thou art the brightest of all,
And of all the most fair,
For ye answered folly’s call.

Aye, that is thy sombre fate,
For ye write without thought,
And as intellect you hate,
Thy merit comes from naught.

Success doth not show thy intellect,
Nor do rating from its carriers,
For their brains have long been wrecked,
And blocked by arrogant barriers.

Why art thou a diver,
In the pool of superior pride,
When thou art a mere thriver,
Whose mind has long since died?

Aye, so look not down, but up,
To those who pause to think and answers find.
And finally drink from the cup,
Of the scorned intellectuals of mankind.