In honor of Poets' Day, I've decided to write a little something... actually... I'm just going to write my favorite poem... author unknown. Promotion Promotion comes to him who sticks Unto his work and never kicks Who watches neither clock nor sun To tell him when his task is done Who toils not by stated chart Defining to a jot his part Who gladly does a little more Than he's remunerated for The man in factory or shop Who rises quickly to the top Is he who gives what can't be bought Intelligent and carfeul thought No one can say just when begins The service that promotion wins Or when it ends, 'tis not defined By certain hours or any kind Of system that has been divised Merit cannot be systemized It is at work when it's at play It serves each minute of the day 'Tis always at it's post to see New ways of help and use to be Merit from duty never slinks Its cardinal virtue is, it thinks Promotion comes to him who tries Not solely for a selfish prize But day by day and year by year Holds him employer's interest dear Who measures not by what he earns, The sum of labor he returns. Nor counts his day of toiling through Till he's done all that he can do. His strength is not of muscle bred, But of the heart and of the head. The man who would the top attain Must demonstrate he has a brain.