ALL THE WORLD'S A STAGE
Today is just another day
And all the World's a stage
Where we can write a Symphony
On every other page.
With Concerts each presented
At perfect Intervals
An Aria of Movements,
Each Score in Syllables
Each Movement will be cherished
Each Octave a reprieve,
As all our senses languish
And in Symphonies deceive.
For all the World's a stage
Each Concert played in full
As we must engage in daily life
These fantasies to pull.
And when the day is over
Again real life we'll see
To live life as we want it
And plan Our next fantastic symphony.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
Ms. Caroline
© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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