A pen, I believe,
Is the size and shape of a music note,
Scurrying along a page.
Words found to be inner flame of one's soul.
Bold, wet ink
Crashes toward a hand,
And strong fragrance of pages and flavor of letters
Is window to the world.
Such stories are from these notes,
Impacting lives of the world
Day by day.
Stories continuing on as
Generations pass by.
Hogwarts' Ms. Rowling followed this manual,
Imagination that crawled into bestsellers
To touch stubborn minds.
Not a single spill laid obstinate ink on her paper,
It did make a mess
Few times she became too stressed.
Her BFF became Hermione,
Harry her homeboy,
Who whispered to her, gave ideas
When she caught writer's block.
Joyous tears were brought to Rowling by Slytherin scarves,
An inquiry whether Draco and Hermione
Would be a good match.
Maybe hate would diminish
Creating new aspect of love.
Hermione wished a Death Eater
To be the source of her happiness.
Draco forced himself to treat Hermione
Like dirt so he could love her.
"Carpe diem" was the way their lives
Should have been,
But too many conflicts stood in their way.
The pen affecting that music note
Scripted what their memories could have been.