'Blest be the man that spares these stones.'
William Shakespeare in death did state.
'And curst be he that moves my bones.'
Warned the Bard in messing with fate.
It's said Shakespeare did put the curse
Because he knew the threat was there,
Comes a corpse with a bigger purse,
Putting poorer bones who knows where.
In his Holy Trinity Church,
In his home town, the Bard does rest.
But foot traffic has caused a lurch
Needing to put the curse to test.
The crumbling stones need a retool.
Here's hoping the Bard's bones keep cool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem