Lupin's Laments

Till dusk we do not glance it
Then slowly, bit by bit,
It appears,
And along with it my fears.

The sight of the moon, though beautiful to some,
Instead makes me want to run!
Though given a chance by Dumbledore,
I let it slip away and now I remain poor.

For who in their right mind
Would to a werewolf be kind?
I am punished for what I was meant to be.
It's not my fault, don't you see?

Yet it's not the poverty I mind most:-
It's the insult 'You werewolf, go away and roast!'
They don't care to know me, and what's inside,
By all their rules, I'd gladly abide!

It hurts me so much; you cannot know!
Each minute, each second seems so slow.
Then finally, a werewolf I become,
I know little pity, empathy none.

But at least the potion: wolfsbane
Helps keep me sane.
All due to the werewolf's bite
You'll find me in such a sorry plight.

-borntoread

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Harry's Hatred

The day is here
Yet I see no light
I have no fear
That I have lost my sight

It doesn’t matter any more
Nothing does, and nothing ever will
My body feels sore
As I lean on the window-sill

The tears don’t come
Although I want them to
I want to run away
From myself, what should I do?

Each day is new
And yesterday is forgotten
My life is so blue
With death I am besotted.

He was my father, and mother besides
My catch at the straw
He has all but survived
While running away from the law.

Let me tell you one thing:
It is not easy being the Boy-Who-Lived.


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