by Something Diabolical » Sat Mar 19, 2011 8:35 am
Sometimes rhymes just don't make sense!
Or maybe I'm just really dense.
Laying on some slate, you say?
I'll sit here till my hair turns gray,
Wondering why you have to lay there
And asking myself why you don't find a chair.
you can call me
Blue~
"No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool."
-from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock - T.S. Eliotmy lair 