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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