Once upon a time I was a famous detective,
I thought I was the greatest of all that had ever been detected.
But soon I realized a problem,
That every situation I solved was wildly contrived.

The clues I found were all too convenient,
The solutions to each case felt too obvious and evident.
I thought, why is this the way it is?
When I figured it out I could no longer resist.

The answer that I had finally found,
Was that I was a character in a book renown.
My life had been written out for me,
And the story was never meant to be free.

My every move was predetermined and planned
For the pleasure of a reader's hand.
My life was just a work of fiction,
No matter how hard I tried, I could not change my condition.

Though I was disappointed and feeling blue,
I still continued to see things through.
As the fictional detective I had always been,
I finished each case without fail and was done.