ON : Theatre Troupes, and Ones in Sevens

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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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