Friday, April 26, 2019

SHAKESPEARE

Shakespeare.
It thee,the literary boss
You beautilize the word to you, like oz
That imaginative city,and I wonder the boss,
Why I couldn't set my eyes on you,at least once in my boysters,boss.

I hope may to the world to come
And give that fresh written, some
I know can't forget your Rome,
You may again to come to this home.

No one can hope to compete with thee,pillar,
But how then use all this sort,all manner
Of your philosophy comes all day,like a mana
To this time, I wonder what you know.

Death bring a blockage,and then you to the prison
Of unseen,who can say it at fault,this season
Between death, you and me,that lad didn't know me
That first lad whom cause this,I left a sea
For you,I know one day, we shall see.

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