He knew whereof he wrote, a keen observer
of the passing stage and one can only wonder
did he know more than that? The theatre of
which he wrote and for which he wrote where
drama and the comedy of life passed through
The Globe to pleasure and edify an audience.
Was it a metaphor for the much larger theatre
and its endless cast of woebegone humanity?
Think of this theatre as a gift by the great creatrix
to her more fully evolved creations, a classroom
highlighting defects inherent in a malfunctioning
creation never fully developed where lessons
could be taught in conflict resolution in observing
a world-theatre whose sad residents are forever
caught in an emotional spiral of the senses and
emotions of suspicion, hatred, covetousness
jealousy and victimhood spar with intelligent
reasoning only to fail, where ancestral antipathies
against competitors for survival resources channel
mind and energy unerringly toward vile conflict
reducing counter claims from waning sources 'till
such time that all are destroyed, exiting stage right.
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