Those green eyes are empty
The windows of an abandoned house.
Staring back at me
Their fire doused.

In the summer he returns
But it is not home.
Only a hellhole
Where he is alone.

I curse the heavens
For this boy’s pain.
Why can’t he have a family?
Why is everyone loved slain?

He suffers;
I see the agony.
That he hides
From the prying world.

In the mirror he sees not himself —
His father’s face.
His mother’s eyes.
His godfather’s smile.

To have pieces
But never the whole;
Must kill him
And yet doesn’t show.

Author's Note: This was meant to be from Dumbledore's POV before he died, by the way. (I imagined this taking place in one of those meetings in his office.)

I'm not particularly fond of this poem, but I felt like submitting it, so. . . . What did you think?