I wish I’d given up the whole idea
Shakespeare’l muttered as he wrote king Lear.
Who am I to tell folks what to do.?
I’d rather be a cobbler mending shoes..
Who will want to read about bad luck
Choices foolish as the day they struck?
Why not give up thinking of good works.
Who will read the Bible else the Kirk?
I wonder why I taught myself to write
. Instead of having fun with something light.
There’s something other lives inside our soul
Its wishes are quite different from our own.
Giving up the gossip is good news
Giving up the likes and counting views.
The word of someone thoughtful counts far more
1000 views are no more than a score
How my heart sings 