Shakespeare

Shakespeare, you must have been driven to despair If you did not think of the right word, you would tear out you hair. Your spirit drove you to write of everything you saw When that was done, it wanted more. Morning, noon and night You were driven to write Of how you saw people love, fight, or hate Or fornicate, or mate. You just had to write Morning, noon, or night The world, you saw the world as we never knew. And cooked for us a whole new brew Of stories, that will last till the end of time For me to relate to, as if they were mine. Oh Shakespeare ! You can with words express A love of great tenderness. And in another line or so You can describe a battle, blow by blow That was not only horrific But your attention to detail was terrific. The blood, the gore, the horror Would be remembered well beyond tomorrow’s morrow. In another world, beyond your ken A world of men who fight, and fight For what they think is just and right. Your words will be found To be like a seed upon the ground That grows, and flourishes into a tree That will live forever in your memory