Toomb Tabard

Beware the prince
Who is all image and surface,
But with no grounding depth;
Who is all resume', and no performance;
Who is always restless for the next title,
The next accolade
Before the luster is even off the last.
Beware the man who has theories,
But no experience,
Credentials, but no accomplishments;
Who has learned all his answers
In the sheltered halls of academe,
And has never felt the hard trials;
Who has never contemplated failure
With real consequences.
Place no trust in the ruler
Who lives and dies
By his cult of personality;
For whom everything is about him,
And will hear no criticism.
He is an uncertain rood;
A bridge made of rotted wood;
New clothes without an emperor,
And all who rely on him will be consumed
When reality overcomes his folly.
Weep for those whose lives
Are in the hands of such a prince
And fortify your own house
Against the storms to come.