To thine own self be true,
For whilst our own still waters are disturbed by the promise of better things,
We must focus and reassess, for all that glisters is not gold,
And at the point of that realisation,
Our expectations fold,
And we ponder a more basic proposition:
To be, or not to be,
As the former simply sets us free,
Allows you to be you, me to be me,
Allows us to share a level of understanding,
As we read from the same page,
And I am given the platform to write this poem,
After all, all the world's a stage,
And we are all merely players.
If we play our own game, we can win it.
Nothing can come of nothing,
And you will not win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket.
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.
Be my friend.

(RIP William Shakespeare, born and died 23rd April)

©Alex Frost 2011