This is a poem, read as you like it;
For within it lies a story, so horrific
That it’ll lead you to a fiery tempest-
What if Juliet asked Romeo, to give her a pound of flesh?
And she would pay the interest with unrequited love?
What if Bassanio stabbed Shylock in the chest, twenty-three times to be exact?
And took all his wealth-
Wouldn’t that be fair?
The story has just begun;
Sadly the poem’s already meddling in the middle
But saddle up, for now’s not the time
For rhymes and merrying around
What if Lady Macbeth; instead of putting daggers
Into king Duncan, decided to put some flower juice;
And made up with him?
And what if Puck, out of sheer mischief
Decided to squeeze two drops of venom over Lysander’s eyes, inciting the snakes to pour more?
Wouldn’t that be just?
As the poem dies, the story does too; stretching it beyond measure,
Within this lies Cleopatra’s broken treasure
After all, history is made by insignificant things-
Handkerchiefs, knives, rings, and daggers
Kisses and blood; spears and witches
After all, what’s in a name? Really…
Lend me your ears, readers,
For I’ll be done soon and dusted later,
Lovers quarreling never united;
Such is the plight, near or far sighted
It doesn’t matter, for:
“All’s well that ends well”.
Image courtesy- https://www.themarysue.com/shakespeare-fart-jokes/