I’ve always hated it when authors seem to find joyIn killing my favorite characters.With gleaming eyes they toyWith turmoil in every chapter.Just when they’ve got you attachedTo the character’s quirks and flawsTo their words and their demonsJust when you’ve fallen in loveWith the character’s identity—With a cruel turn of the lipThe author smirks and kills them offAnd at our gasped pleas, merely scoffs.But the author was GodAnd my favorite character was youAnd I still can’t believe You’re gone.

-Justin Wetch

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