With the same names, same families, same
cursed Macbeths, same melancholy Danes
to be, or not to be? Hammy dear asked,
holding the skull of a lover he knew.
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him so well.
And yet at the end, I have to concede to
my Foils.
Such fools , to ignore their own shadows.
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ANTHOLOGY : THE GRIPPY SOCK HOTEL
PoetryI got trapped in a mental health facility *who I will be suing, btw* Because they intentionally overdosed me on day 10 of my stay, to force a day eleven. They didn't count on me being smarter, and willing to bide my time, and wait. Anyway, this is...
