Paragon of animals!

To plunder another's wit is the greatest of compliments - oh, apart from sleeping with them...

But we'll not go there. To paraphrase Shakespeare!

"I have of late, I know not where, lost all my mirth...What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, in apprehension how like a God! And yet to me what is this quintesscence of dust! Man delights not me, no, nor women neither..." Nor women neither

And, not at all inspired by Koster, here's a poem that means nothing to the masses. Oh, the human urge to publish! Twill undo us all!

Anything I'm doing,
the state of being,
I can feel you there
most times faintly
sometimes clearly.

My head becoming grey,
frame would wont lay,
You won't shake off
but its not your hand
tis not your command.

Sits in my speech,
words cleave to each
well met stranger
tell them "fuck off
you are not enough".

I'm standing alone,
not kneeling nor prone.
Its life, it is life
in one joy's bequeath,
another's funeral wreath.