Step Aside Shakespeare

XIX

A Frankenstein monster stitched cleverly.

Ink, paper, words - alchemy setteth free.

Dreams of characters I couldst never be

and worlds for which I yearn in some degree.

Before I did consent, I wast but a

blank canvas lying in wait. With each page

I am reborn - renewed! - and reinvent

memories I integrate. Becoming

someone new, yet familiar. Forever

changed, never singular. A creation

of true literature yond endeavors

to live and breathe. Never entirely me,

merely a sum of the pages I gleaned.

A monster born of poetry indeed.