My brother, Shakespeare.

Shakespeare was my brother,

The more successful one.

He'd woo hundreds of women,

While I couldn't even woo one.

 

He spoke words like a king,

Of two hundred years ago.

Should I have been more like him?

I guess I'll never know.

 

Shakespeare;

I'm not a poet.

Unlike you.

Shakespeare;

I can't write a sonnet.

But don't treat me like a fool.

 

He could get straight to a lady's heart.

Without breaking her skin.

Only to be thrown out,

With no chance of a way back in.

 

I've learnt a thing or two,

From this "perfect" man's mistakes.

I give my love to a woman,

While he just begs and takes.

Reviews

I really find this relateable, anyone whos related a "egomaniac" could agree too.
this is a VERY good poem.