A poem about Forks, and about the dangers you will behold upon moving there.
DISCLAIMER: I am far too humble to claim that I could come up with anything quite as spectacular as Stephenie Meyer Could.
So, without further ado,
I give you...
THE TOWN OF FORKS
The gloomy, rainy town of Forks, Washington,
Where nothing is really as it seems,
Where almost everyone that you come across,
Seem like they stepped out of horrible dreams.
Curling up in bed, and trying to sleep,
You hear a distant ghostly howl.
Walking too far into the thick, dark woods,
You swear you can hear a menacing growl.
The people display their own strange behavior;
They keep to themselves, and speak in hushed tones.
Unexplained absences increase mounting suspense,
And it's hard to come to trust anyone.
Lurking creatures watch from the shadows,
The forest is roles by fearsome beasts,
And chalky-faced students at the local high school,
Eye you up as if you are something to eat.
You fear your classmates, question your friends,
Constantly carefully watching your back,
Avoiding the many shady characters,
Preparing yourself for any kind of attack.
You try to tell others of your growing concern,
But when the time comes, you can't find your voice.
The quiet, elusive town that is Forks...
This is my home town of choice.