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All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and
their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling
and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like
snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress'
eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking
the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With
eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age
shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well
saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And
whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans
teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
WELL THAT IS MY VAVORET POEM!!LOL
(U HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT ANYTHING U SAY WILL BE MISSWORDED AND USED AGENST
U IN THE THE COURT OF LAW)
HEHEHAHALOL
ROFL
LMAO
WELL IM GONNA GO PLAY MY GUITAR OR GO DRIVE MY BOAT SO GO DO SOMEN USEFULL OR LISTEN
TO MUSIC CAUSE THAT AINT NEVER BOREN!!
SEE YA HAVE FUN
(RYAN COY)
MY NUMBER IS,
#911 CALL AND ASK FOR WEED IM SEROUS!! HE HE HAHA
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