Miss Havisham

Anticipation, a stage encapsulate in time. He takes the burden of my all my wrongs and the blame for all my transgressions. I read the words in your eyes, I taste your facial pity. But you are all the lighted fools, for I am not Macbeth, and my tomorrows are tomorrows. My life is not a "walking shadow" and I am not a " poor player. " I bask in certainty, just as the hog predicts the spring, I hold back the finish.