Having a Ball... Not!
I see groups of girls, squealing and smiling,
Hordes of boys, standing and staring.
'Ask her, ask her!' they prod each other
Tear their kidneys out, they'd frickin' rather.
Emmeline, Edna, Eileen, Elle,
Truly, what the frickin' hell?
Having to choose, having to ask,
Every reporter's questions are such a task..
Yes, I've faced Nundus and a dragon,
Uncountable enemies by the wagon.
Learning to face girls is stranger and tougher,
Even George's got a date, the frickin' duffer.
Bloody hell, if he can, why can't I?
After all, for my looks people would die.
'Looks don't matter!' 'Looks aren't all!'
Looks are the only things at the frickin' Yule Ball.
Having a Ball... Not! by Sainyn Swiftfoot
Story Notes:
Thanks to Vittoria and EquinoxTonks for their help.
I'm not Neil Murray. I'm not David Murray. I'm not Mackenzie Murray. What I'm trying to say is, I'm not even related to J K Rowling, I'm just throwing the things she invented around.
Let's see if you can figure out the secret message in this poem!