To Be, or Not to Be, That is the Question

Life is an enduring battle; you rise above the rocks

you stumble upon, or they will defeat you.  

I happen to jig over all the rocks that boogie my way.

these rocks dash before my eyes and knock me day by day,

they boom, bam flying far and wide, then land banging on my head,

as they fly across, their stench astoundingly gruesome stench plugs my space,      

the thud is a total ache in my neck,

and their bitterness blemishes the tip of my sweet lips.

The rocks’ taste as dreadful as their filthy reek, stinking up my snout:

 that’s when Michael Jackson’s “Leave Me Alone” starts echoing in my head.

Actually, rocks don’t smell awfully bad.

I would like to think that the music of tomorrow will be as good as the music of yesterday

because know a day’s all the jams I ever seem to hear on the radio are “Shawty,” “Baby,” and “Yo, Crank Dat Soljua’ Boy.”

But since our generation is dim-witted, meaningful music ought to crumple.

At least we evolved from Shakespeare’s to be, or not to be, that is the question.   

The baffling language of Shakespeare puzzles me at all times.

It’s as bizarre as normal.

The ‘thrill ride’ of Shakespeare’s literacy,

led to Miso’s explosion into dull little pieces.

However, those little torn pieces will possibly meet again,

 once I appreciate beyond doubt the unsubtle secrets surrounded by the words of this complex writer.  

I’ll have to look within myself to value Shakespeare’s masterwork of prose.

Although reality slaps you across the face

Although rocks stand in the way of your contentment,

although conflict captures all the luminosity from your firework

as you carry on day after day.