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| Poems | |||||||||||
| Excerpt from Macbeth by William Shakespeare | |||||||||||
| Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to a dusty death. Out, out brief candle. 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, signifying nothing. | |||||||||||
| the riddle | |||||||||||
| haiku | |||||||||||
| me, myself and I | |||||||||||
| let's play pretend | |||||||||||
| why? | |||||||||||
| poem for me | |||||||||||