Why is it that all true love ends in disaster?
Be you a lowly slave, or a powerful master,
Why do Romeo and Juliet with love so pure-
end in a grave without a cure?
Is there no future for true love?
Are there no expectations-
to make amends, overcome frustrations?
Did Shakespeare hit the nail on the head?
Either you are laughed at – or you drop dead
How much pain do we spread so lightly?
Can we not give in a little, just slightly?
A few years – we beget on this earth,
We must make it count – make it worth,
Every day that goes by without the ones we care for-
is a day of pain and torment to the core,
If we seek not to be a Shakespearean tragedy
Nor end up as an Elizabethan comedy
No one wants to become Othello or Iago,
Nor be Puck or Ophelia, life is precious, not a picture show