IT MIGHT BE HAMLET
There's a pile of books on the floor,
and one of them, I'm pretty sure, cries
out. It might be Hamlet. Just a small,
skinny one, with a decent preface too.
History of the stage, and all that :
Avon, Globe, you know. And ah,
the thoughts are moving tonight.
-
I'm usually alienated by something or
other, ever off from the happy center :
People glee, and then look at me.
(To be, or not to be...)
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