Moriarty
Angry
But at what
Many ask
But none know
His life
A maelstrom of
Hatred and depression
So few understand
He plays
Not because
He is bored
But because
He craves attention
His theatrics
Only designed
To retrieve the
Attention of the one
He craves
The one who
Could understand
Him like no other
A intense emotion
Hope is
Not something
For the faint of heart
It nearly stuns him
The way it sweeps in waves
Over him
Like waves in the most
Turbulent of oceans
Pulsating and yet
Fulfilling
And then…
Soul crushing disappointment
Anger
For the one
Who above all
Should know you
Are not the villain
But the victim
Of a most heinous crime
And yet
You feel anger
For those who
Convinced him
You were the enemy
The expendable
army doctor
The reformed druggie
DI
One who he should pity
The abused in childhood
The forensic investigator
Yet he still doesn't get it
You left him breadcrumbs
Yet they were as plastic
As the "Good" doctor's
Emotions for him
But left him suffer
When he comes crawling back
To the hate filled "best friend"
You'll be waiting
In the wings
To catch him when he falls