Petrarchan Sonnet

Watching You

Eyes everwatching, everpresent; men
Secretly quiver at the sight of it.
Any evidence of crime, any bit,
Would be found by the movement of that pen.
Like an animal is trapped in its den,
In a corner alone he's forced to sit,
As he writes his thoughts, words a perfect fit
For the terror brought by the "mother hen."
His stare piercing the corners of your mind,
Seemingly reading your innermost thoughts,
Those that would lead you to death even more.
Portrayed as helpful and portrayed as kind,
You would never know of his secret plots;
Eyes so chilling they pierce straight to your core.