A/N: Wrote this about a year ago and decided to dig it up. It's a sonnet from the perpective of the apothecary who sold Romeo the poison, just some musing. Feedback is welcomed!
Disclaimer: Romeo and Juliet is William Shakespere's and doesn't belong to me.

Sonnet V (The Apothecary)

Did he think he was the first of his kind?
Cowards who believe themselves to be brave
Desperate men, trapped within their own lives
Who've sunk too deep in madness to be saved.
And I am not the first man who, in woe
Laid down my will in place of poverty
The law is not my friend, yea, this I know
Nor that of any poor apothecary
Is gold the true poison, as this boy said?
Has desperation for it maimed my soul?
When he has died, will it be on my head?
To help him should I have refused his gold?
No, I have seen that look in other eyes
Without me, still he'd find a way to die.