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JP. 1948 (United Kingdom)


So tell me Bill as you take your rest
Think you to now wouldst be the best
When you put the quill to sonnets and plays
In your wildest dreams on darkest days
Did you write Macbeth to turn out that way?
So actors won’t mention the Scottish play
Was Romeo for Juliet ever in truth?
The sweetest tale of love struck youth
Or sad remembered from your lost glory
Brought now to date as west side story

So tell me Bill, as you lie fast asleep
And still your birthday they yet keep
To what is owed this bold success
Your writings greatest penliness
Was it just the way you wrote life down?
Or your slanted view of a market town
To maybe right the wrongs unjust
In satirical truth your time could trust
Were you “a political” Or mayhap not
As your misdemeanours Queen Bess forgot

So tell me Bill as you turn over
Your first life hard but then to clover
Where did you hide for ten long years?
That none knew where to find Shakespeare’s
How long did it take that first piece of work?
To write and rewrite remove every quirk
I’m sure you had critics who could have done better
That comes with the ground if you are the pacesetter
So give me the griff on those days at the globe
Just something to print and I leave your abode

In the gloom of his casket Bill opened his eyes
And glared at this reporter he’d came to despise
As he cleared out some years from the back of his throat
Before brushing the earth from the front of his coat
He said if I speak will you leave me in peace
I had trouble back then with the churches police
To use women for parts they had to be an old hag
So Juliet’s part was a well made up young lad
And it started a trend that exists to this day
For boys that play girls in an uncertain way


William Shakespeare died on St Georges day 1616 He was 52 and it was his birthday
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Submitted by johnworthy03 on July 29, 2021

1:47 min read

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    "GHOST REPORTER" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 20 Jan. 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/106037/ghost--reporter>.

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