Shylock

An infamous man once roamed these streets, whose name now appears on the docket,

You’d know his approach from the sound of a jingle that coins did make in his pocket.

He traded loans for pounds of flesh, and reveled in all that he earned,

But when his greed caused his girl to take off with his pearls, the tables had suddenly turned.

 “O my ducats!” he did weep, as he swore his daughter’s demise.

His soul was as dead as the golden coin that he should have placed over each eye.

While she fell in love, her father fell slowly into deeper vengeful desire,

And he smiled when finding his debtor had lost all the money he went to acquire.

To the courts, they went, as the man held true to the contract that promised his flesh,

But the tale has a twist, for you see, an unlikely dilemma came abreast.

A pound of flesh was guaranteed, so the creditor sharpened his knife,

But the papers said nothing about blood being spilt, a factor which saved the man’s life.

Instead, now the lender was forced to surrender, and give up half of his worth,

And in death he was tied to his daughter provide all the rest that he left on this earth.

Follow this man - take fees for each blink, while thoughts are worth not but a cent,

Sell your soul for the crossing toll, and charge interest to those who repent.

Or take heed in the warning, take a moment to pause, and don’t claim you never were told,

Be a borrower not, nor a lender become, less your heart stop from blood colored gold.

Reviews

[Clayton Bardwell]

Fantastic! I like it.