Midnight Soliloquy
by L.A. Mahoney

Fortune hath played me for a strumpet.
The follies of my youth,
like abused and murdered children,
doth plague mine every moment.
At night I hold converse with mine own head,
as Hamlet with Yorick’s; a cat for Horatio.
I hath given my lot in life such husbandry
as befits not even a comet in the heavens;
nor shall the worms have good compost.