Shakespeare’s Complaint Poem by Edgar Andrade Baguio

Famous ladies and big men of today,
It is indeed quite amusing to see;
Some of your vivid strokes in bold array,
Which are seemingly meaty lines for free;
Free to scribble a word or forty-two,
Free to declare and hail a sticky mind;
Those outwit my contemporaries too,
Bacon, Marlowe, Nashe and others may find;

These pens of yours can beat them and me,
Though found only in squares of images;
I still thought what haply our frailties be?
Is it the mutual gaps and its stages?

Or the grandeur designs of self-portrait,
Perhaps a blend of starving heart and trait;
Thinking that fame can quench and fill their souls,
As they behold their names above their soles;
Staring at our classic trends of the line,
As if to mix and mock our pearls with swine;
How on earth could they do these faddish crimes?
And enjoy a chopped-chopped form without rhymes!

I can do nothing from my graveyard fate,
But filed a complaint before Hades’ gate;
While imploring mighty Zeus to release,
Some witty plagues to pay for their short lease.