My Prison by allura mystique
Chapter Notes: First off: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter series, especially the one, the only Sirius Black. Okay then, this poem Sirius is looking back to his childhood and teenage years when he was a "prisoner" in his family's house. I usually don't write free-verse poetry, but I thought it sounded right for this particular poem (but somehow a few rhymes snuck in).Please R&R!
I stare about
This house where I
Am now forced
To wait in vain.
Every passing day
Is merely
More torture.
I can’t stand
To see other
Useful members
Of the Order
Come and go;
I’m left with
No one but
My own thoughts
To keep me
Company.
My memories,
They drown me.
My thoughts,
They are quelled
Only by my
New best friend:
Firewhisky.
So, I sit and think,
Because that’s
All I can do...
Sit and think
While a war begins.
Sit and think
With my useless,
Lonely whims.
I find it funny,
In a twisted way,
That my life
Has been a prison.
I was born into
This house and now
I’m back again;
It’s like a magnet,
Pulls me in,
No matter
How I roam.
Once a Black,
I do suppose,
A Black you’re
Doomed to stay.
This prison held
Me in my youth;
Family ties
Did bind me.
They were my chains,
Linking me to
The Black family history.
I never was
Like the rest—
A black sheep
Would describe me.
The family tree,
Which I adorned
Was a life sentence
I’d been assigned.
I was guilty
Of the crime
For simply
Being alive.
I never was
Worthy of much love;
I never was
The better son.
No, I was
A rebel—
I disagreed
With their wicked views.
I couldn’t see
How being a Black
Made me superior
To others.
I never felt
I was the best
Because my
Blood was pure.
This view rang true
When I was sorted
Into Gryffindor.
My days at Hogwarts
Were my bail—
My short time
To be free.
I could laugh,
I could joke,
And forget the
Prison that
Awaited me.
But then the summer
Always came
At the end of each
Wonderful year.
I’d be back there—
In that old house
Where darkness
Mingled with despair.
I grew to hate
My bloodline.
I grew to hate
Their looks.
I grew to envy
My good friends
Who didn't know
How lucky
They were.
Why was it
That Remus,
A werewolf
Of all things,
Was loved and
Cherished by
His mum and dad,
And I was
Shunned aside?
And Peter—
Not nearly
The wizard
I was, and yet
He had a home;
And James, my best mate,
Could I be jealous of him?
We weren’t so different;
We were one
And the same.
But his parents
Adored him—
I caused mine shame.
I couldn’t take it
Anymore!
I gave myself the key
To unlock the cell
To which I was cast—
I eagerly set myself free.
I packed my trunk,
In what was a
Helter-skelter way.
My possessions
I threw in
Without a care.
I couldn’t stand
Another day!
My flight from where
I had been kept
Was hardly
Very easy.
But I escaped,
I was free,
Wild, like the dog
Within me.
I found salvation
At James’ house,
Where I was
Lovingly welcomed.
How could I have
Been jealous?
I’d had a family
All along—
The Potters,
It was they
Who truly loved me.