that is the question
whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer
in private the slings and errors of outrageous toddlers
or to take up blogging against a sea of diapers
and by reporting, clean them. to write, to post
no more -- and with a post we say we end
the headaches and the thousand natural shocks
our nerves are heir to -- tis a conversation
blogged as much as wished. to write to post
to post perchance to read. Ay there's the rub,
for in that post that's read what comments may come
when we have gathered all that we have said
is there some meaning? There's the respect
that makes meaning of the insanity of a day so long.
For who would bear the bites and kicks of life
the incessant repeating of elmo's song, the peed on opportunity
the pangs of despised love, the laws delay
the insolence of toddlers and the spurns
the patient cat who is unworthy takes.
When we ourselves might invite others to quiet us
with a honest blog post.