Shakespeare Today II – The Sequel
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So doth my tights now hasten to their end
Though only aged five hundred years or more
They’re now past mine ability to mend.
O loss! their colour flatter’d me I know,
That others pointed to them is fair proof;
But holes that showed in privy place below
Display’d the rarities of nature’s truth.
Alack! I now must seek some modern pants
And those have some dread detriments ’tis said,
Some shorter curly hairs may feel the angst
Of metal zippers grinding as they’re shred.
My shapely rear no longer will engage
And such is sad when all the world’s a stage.