Strangers in Fiction - Much The Same

This is it: the latest draft of our manuscript

But as these pages fold and expose

The problems I’m not willing to admit

Our only tragic flaw, we’re gardeners, not architects

Planting seeds only to watch them wilt

We should be digging in the trench

Until the structure topples just like meter in a song

Skip the page when you reflect on it

Still wondering, «How could this go wrong?»

Victoria, tell that story I love

Take it slow, you know I love the prose

If the setting changed, would the ending stay the same?

If the plot’s too slow, then you can choose your own

Pick up the pen;

this can’t be how the tale ends

The twist was way too obvious for a second installment

If only we had known about the tragedy and loss

Whatever chapters you might chase you’ll never save me from this epilogue

Victoria, tell that story I love

Take it slow, you know I love the prose

If the setting changed, would the ending stay the same?

If the plot’s too slow, then you can choose your own

Our only hope is the finale feels like home

What if I break?

What if I can’t compete?

What if I hold up all my cards and let you see?

And if I say something that makes you stay

It would be a masterpiece of fiction crafted just to save face

Victoria, tell that story I love

Take it slow, you know I love the prose

If the setting changed, would the ending stay the same?

If the plot’s too slow, then you can choose your own

Our only hope is the finale feels like home

What if I write the words that can make this right?

Would it bring all these written pages back to life?