If I was any good at poetry I’d write something today. But I’m not. And I don’t feel funny enough to write a funny story. So please accept this photograph of a drowning rock instead.
Also, I’m going to let Shakespeare speak, because anyone who wrote the stage direction “Exit, pursued by a bear” is a poetic genius and deserves my adoration.
Life is but a walking shadow.
A poor player that struts and frets
his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale, told by an idiot
Full of sound and fury
I may have misquoted here. I could look it up but I don’t feel like it. Feel free to correct me, if you know which play it is from. I won’t actually pay attention though, because if I’m wrong, it turns out I like my way better. Shakespeare may have been a genius, but so am I.
Also, please share any poetry of your own (or quote someone else’s) because if I can’t write it, at least I can read it. That might cheer me up.