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Shakespeare's Beard
Thou hast wedged scissors in mine cranium,
Flaying thoughts by thy cutting wit's swift slice.
Mine mind had been filled hot helium,
A gas hovering above sound advice.
Perhaps I deserve leaking emissions
To deflate mine ego's poor decisions.
Perhaps as a floating, feral balloon,
I had embroached upon flight far too soon.
Regardless of mine fool-hardy actions
And flighty dreams of ignoble fancy,
Am I not worthy of benignancy?
Why must mine light air split in diffraction,
Scattering by thy sharp criticism?
Can I not have gentle mysticism?
poem
by
Tim Stensloff
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