You know who you are. Google Shakespeare, Sonnet 29
Down at the paddle tennis courts, this guy
I know bemoaned his outcast state (although
Disgraced neither in fortune nor men’s eyes).
And I, embittered, could not help but crow!
Upon reflection, I accused myself
Of ugly, rank unhuman cruelty.
He’s seventy, too stout, alone—elfin
Eyes attest sagacity, wit. Multi-
Talented, yet, nonetheless, overwhelmed,
Depressed, yearning to lavish lust and love.
He knows, now, how he entered empty hell.
He knows he too soon scorned gifts from above—
Those, who pierced beneath his faults, found things
That stoked their tender hearts, released their flames.
He would, no doubt, change states with all those kings
Who, powerful, can purchase willing dames.
I recommended abstinence—he scowled.
I recommended suicide—he howled!
(2/15/11)