I met you at the bookstore
You were flipping through pages
Encompassed in a jumble of words
All mashed together in Times New Roman font

Your blue eyes were warm and kind
And it was kindness that I so needed
I saw the words spill from your lips
As you said “hello” in Times New Roman font

Your warm smile matched your scratchy tweed jacket
That always reminded me of the 19th Century, more or less
Its individual threads worn but tidy
Like the unwavering lines of Times New Roman font

I read your story cover to cover
It spanned through journeys forgotten by time
From snow-capped mountains to roaring rivers
Line by line you trekked in Times New Roman font

You comforted me when I felt wretched
When I wished I could crumble and burst
Become the dusty, intangible words I stood for
Etched into me in Times New Roman Font

I picked you up in the bookstore
And I listened as you told me your tale
But you were only a character, not even real
Your paper heart beating in Times New Roman Font

And worse, you died, in the midst of your story
Not even at the end; a disgrace, really
And I cried in the bookstore between your dusty pages
As you uttered your final words in Times New Roman font