I am John Wick and you may have seen my movie,

but here is my story, in poetic poetry.


I was an assassin, but had given up the criminal life,

so that I can be with my love, my wife.

She then became ill, died and just like that she was gone,

gifting me a dog, to make it bearable to mourn.


The mafia stole my Camaro and my dog they killed.

They awoke the devil in me, that was once stilled.

I declared war and prepared myself for revenge,

to get back my car, and my puppy to avenge.


The body count rise as I kill and fight.

Beware, you thieves that had unjustly trampled on my right.

Safety and honour is secured as I check into Hotel Continental,

but my war cry leads me to break the rules so fundamental.

I kill all the baddies and retrieve my car,

you should not have messed with me, a fighting persona.


But it does not end there, there is a twist to my story,

Tune into next years marathon poetry,

when all will be revealed,

in John Wick Chapters Two and Three!



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