Writing Life1 min read
I’ve Read This One
A sonnet about a story you recognize by the second chapter.
From behind a book, he glances my way,
a shy smile, an innocent look.
Now he’s the hero, with lines to say;
an opening scene, the perfect hook.
Chapter by chapter, our story grows,
stolen lines from dog-eared pages.
Now he’s charming; it’s all for show.
Beneath the binding, something rages.
The last chapter hurts. He smiles,
teeth bared at last, the monster clear.
Now his books lie in chaotic piles;
whole characters just disappear.
I’ve read this story before. He doesn’t know
I slew another monster long ago.