Shakespeare's Nightmare

Poor William turns and moans within his grave: Within a phrase, one simple turn can bind the most creative stirrings of the mind and poet to cliché becomes a slave. Exist but in uniqueness and repent for rhyming verse you penned with “love” and “dove” and last week’s sonnet found “push comes to shove” - the future of our language I lament… But surely, there must be another choice than bland insertions placed but for the rhyme which, with their frequency, are meaningless. ‘Tis poet death to speak with borrowed voice – transcend the obvious to reach sublime, allow poor William his most peaceful rest.