To Be Or Not To Be, That Is The Question: Wherther 'Tis Nobler In The Mind To Suffer The Slings And Arrows Of Outrageous Fortune Or To Take Arms Against A Sea Of Troubles, And BY A Sleep To Say We End The Heartache, And The Thousand Natural Shocks That Flesh Is Heir To 'Tis A Consummation Devoutly To Be Wished. To Die -To Sleep. To SleepPerchance To Dream: Ay There's The Rub!! For Im That Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come When We Have Shuffled Off This Mortal Coil, Must Give Us Pause Thers's The Respect That Makes Calamity Of So Long Life For Who Whould Bear The Whips And Scorns Of Time The Oppressor's Wrong, The Proud Man's Contumely The Pangs Of Despised Love, The Law's Delay. The Insolence Of Office, And The Spurns That Patient Merit Of The Unworthy Takes, When He Himself Might His Quietus Make With A Bare Bodkin? Who Whould Fardel's Bear, To Grunt And Sweat Under A Weary Life, But That The Dread Of Something After Death- The Undiscovered Country, From Whose Bourn No Traveler Returns -Puzzles The Will, And Makes Us Rather Bear Those Ill's We Have Than Fly To Others That We Know Not Of ? Thus Conscience Does Make Cowards Of Us All, And Thus The Native HUe Resolution Is Sicklied O'er With Great Pith And Movement With This Regard Their Currents Turn Away Awry And Lose The Name Of Action.
The night sky
a poem i wrote
youre fingers, cold to the touch lit by the bitter light of the moon. youre broken heart wraps around the burning night... if ther is a glimmer of love in the corner of youre heart will you show it to me in my dreams... stars disapear
The Day A Child Realizes That All Adults Are Imperfect, He Becomes An Adolescent The Day He Forgives Them He, Becomes An Adult The Day The Child Forgives Himself Is The Day He Becomes Wize