The Monster

I wrote this poem when I was 14 years old, and to this day it is probably my best work.

She’s dead and gone.

The monster got her.

And she fell like a fawn

Shot dead by a hunter’s canvas.

 

She’s broken in two

Love got her.

And she’d fall like she’d always do.

Shot dead by Cupid’s arrows.

 

She’s fading to grey.

Temptation got her.

She’s black like the sky of an NYC day

Shot dead by the smog.

 

She’s turned unrealistic.

Pain got her.

And she’s gone like a lost traveler

Shot dead by his enemy.

 

The monster got her

She gave into temptation.

The monster got her

She ate the forbidden fruit.

The monster got her

       Shot dead by her own gun.