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.
