Prompt: Write a personal poem in the voice of a historical figure who has time-traveled to this year.
Lesser Artists Borrow, Great Artists Steal
Four centuries and now I’m named, “The Bard?”
A playwright, poet held with much regard?
Sir Frank and Chris would take this very hard.
They have been hoisted on their own petard.
We stole from Chaucer, Plutarch and beyond
(The thoughts weren’t ours, the ends none of our own.)
Fate stands upon a rolling restless stone.
Took I the blame or credit as my own.
What fates impose, men needs abide hereon them.
Sometimes men have greatness thrust upon them.