Ophelia!
Should you live out
a life in the city,
Everything at arm's reach;
An Amazon delivery
just an hour away,
Or should you
come to the hills?
Should you
come to the hills,
breathe clean air;
Get stung by a wasp,
spot a few bears,
Should you live?
Or should you
sell out your soul?
That begs the question,
Thy fair Ophelia.
Shakespeare got it wrong,
Dare I say,
Lest I be lynched;
By the writing community,
Shakespeare got it wrong.
Thy fair Ophelia,
The real question isn't
'To be or not to be'.
It is, instead,
'to live or sell your soul'?
To breathe,
Or make money;
To live with nature,
Or with comfort;
To live in trees of wood,
Or trees of concrete;
Ophelia, do you understand?
Shakespeare, he was wrong;
Wrong, all along!
He did not come to the mountains,
Smell the air, spot the peacocks,
Touch the butterflies.
He wrote instead, about
cheating, lying friends,
Family that betrayed you,
Lovers who strangled you,
Brothers who abandoned you.
Shakespeare did not
come to the mountains,
Smell the air,
spot the peacocks,
touch the butterflies.
He was wrong all along,
Thy fair Ophelia.
Do you understand, Ophelia,
The real question, isn't
'To be or not to be'.
The real question, begs
'To live or sell your soul'?
To be happy,
Or make money?
To feel the cool wind,
Or the cool computer screen?
To live a life of comfort,
Or of happiness?
Because, thy fair Ophelia,
What matters to you most
when you go to sleep?
The call of the birds,
or the color of your sofa?
The smell of the sea,
Or your Swiggy delivery?
The soft touch of the grass,
Or your internet connectivity?
Are not the animals and the birds,
The mating call of insects,
The sting of a porcupine's quill;
The dance of a frog,
The cry of a bison;
Are not these
worth living for,
thy fair Ophelia?
Author's note: I've been living in the mountains for a while now. I've experienced some amazing things, some of which I've mentioned here. I spotted a bear, many bison, a porcupine, and even a giant squirrel! A friend has been kind enough to lend me his binoculars so I can spot the birds at close range. Naturally, I began to contemplate the fallacy of life in the city, and that is when this poem came to me.
Let me know what you think in the comments.
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