Said the Little Red Rooster, 

"Believe me, things are tough!

Seems the worms are getting scarcer

And I cannot find enough.

What's become of all those fat ones?

It's a mystery to me.

There were thousands through that rainy spell,

But now, where can they be?

But the Old Black Hen who heard him

Didn't grumble or complain,

She had lived through lots of dry spells

She had lived through floods of rain.

She picked a new and undug spot;

The ground was hard and firm,

"I must go to the worms," she said.

"The worms won't come to me."

The Rooster vainly spent his day

Through habit, by ways

Where fat round worms had passed in squads

Back in the rainy days.

When nightfall found him supperless,

He growled in accents rough,

"I'm hungry as a fowl can be;

Conditions sure are tough."

But the Old Black Hen hopped to her perch

and dropped her eyes to sleep

And murmured in a drowsy tone,

"Young man, hear this and weep.

I'm full of worms and happy

For I've eaten like a pig.

The worms were there as always

But, boy, I had a dig!"

I am your constant companion,

I am your greatest helper or your heaviest burden.

I will push you onward or drag you down to failure.

I am at your command.

Half of the tasks that you do you might just as well

turn over to me and I will do them quickly

and correctly.

I am easily managed,

you must merely be firm with me.

Show me exactly how you want something done;

after a few lessons I will do it automatically.

I am the servant of all great people and

alas of all failures as well.

Those who are great I have made great,

those who are failures I have made failures.

I am not a machine, but I work with all the precision

of a machine, plus the intelligence of a person.

Now you may run me for profit or

you may run me for ruin.

It makes no difference to me.

Take me, train me, be firm with me,

and I will lay the world at your feet.

Be easy with me and I will destroy you.

Who am I? I am called Habit.