Him.

There is a man.

A tall, handsome, mysterious man.

A Mop of black curls are nestled on his head,

His eyes spark in the sunlight.

And his body moves swiftly from place to place.

He is beautiful,

So beautiful,

But deadly.

He is arrogant and self-observed.

He is not human,

They say.

He has no heart,

They say.

His mind is a database;

He could deduce you in seconds.

He is a genius.

And he will tell you that.

He is not a psychopath.

He is a sociopath.

His work is his life;

Solving cases is his favourite game.

Catching criminals is his adrenaline,

Being him is his bane.

He doesn't know people care about him.

He doesn't care what people think of him.

He doesn't think about his own safety.

He doesn't need safety because he's him.

If you meet him,

You will hate him.

He is a drug.

You will crave his cases.

You will crave his adventures.

You will crave his affection,

His approval,

And you will crave him.

You will see a different him,

If you stay long enough.

He will laugh,

And smile,

And be interested in you.

He is human,

You will say.

He does have a heart,

You will say.

If you meet him,

No matter how hard you try,

You will slowly fall in love with Sherlock Holmes,

And you won't be able to stop yourself.

A/N I hope that was ok! I had some inspiration while I was in the shower actually (strange…yes) and ended up writing it at about 1:00 in the morning. I really enjoy writing poems, so please review and tell me if you think I should do more!