my feeble stabs at prose...are not poetry at all
and the words I assemble...one would never recall
oft a dash of emotion might I dribble
upon the nothing notions that I scribble
creating dull thud scenarios for none to follow
leading only to nowhere for my words are all hollow
....me

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.
.....william shakespeare