When pricked, I do indeed bleed.

This lonely heart that one does heed.

If we are all the same

Who could be held yet to blame?

Prick me again

There to begin

The travails of the museless heart,

As useless does loves labours start.

07/10/2008

Author's Note: ok... so I don't watch the news, or "reality" television.... and yet somehow, it all creeps in.... good thing I can still read Shakespeare....

Posted on 07/10/2008
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