This is a character poem written for The Great Gatsby, which I read just recently (finally) and thoroughly enjoyed. As a result, however, this little sonnet came into existence. There may be a partner version of it eventually, but for now, there's only this.

WARNINGS: Spoilers, and potentially pitiful-sounding rhymes.


Gatsby

This house of mine is a beach-side resort;

I host many parties here all the time,

Nothing matters if she hates it, old sport,

And if she hates me, my life is a crime.

My sweet, my love, my idol, my Daisy,

I will perform all that she bid me do;

Her feelings undimmed, just growing hazy

As time throws our old love further askew.

I love her so much that she can't do wrong;

If she kills, I'll be framed for it gladly;

If it means I can hear her sweet, sweet song,

I will stay, even if it ends badly.

For her I'd kill a man, happily die,

And yet I cannot be closer than nigh.