SHAKESPEARE FALLEN - PART I
Leaning at the corner
He looked tired, worn, and old
Beneath the tattered clothing
Was a heart grown dark and cold
His weathered face was hardened
His mouth a narrow slit
The miseries of life were etched
Upon skin that didn't fit
Noting well dressed passing by
Lips curling with disdain
He watched the world around him
With eyes that echoed pain
For he had seen a lifetime
Of troubles on those streets
Though it had only been three years
Since life had been so sweet…
Breezes brushed across his brow
He closed his eyes in thought
Trying hard to see her face
The last time they had fought
He'd always won their quarrels
Took pleasure in his skill
Never understanding that
Her spirit he would kill
But she had never treated him
With anything but care
Smiling she'd say, "let's not fight"
Her face so warm and fair
He never could resist her smile
His words would turn to love
Tensions always fed the muse
His soul was barren of
By the lilt of someone's voice
His reverie was broken
In its familiar cadence
Old memories soft-spoken…
To be continued...
K. Tate Jacoby
Copyright July 25, 2010
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