A/N: While trying to write for the Snape prompt: Pride, I started with this first paragraph but instead of talking about his pride in keeping all of his pain inside, it morphed into the below poem. Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own or make money off of Harry Potter, but I wish I could comfort Snape. *pets him*
Look At Him
Look at the little boy
With long black hair,
The adults would say.
So quiet,
So refined,
So dignified
When in their presence.
Must have wonderful parents
To have such good manners.
His poor shabby clothes
Do not become him.
Look at the teenager
With pale skin,
The teachers would say.
So studious,
So witty,
So talented
When stirring his potions.
Must not have a care in the world.
He never complains.
His whole life before him;
A red-headed girl in his future.
Look at the young man
With crisp black eyes,
The colleagues would say.
So strong,
So powerful,
So proud
When he walked among them.
Must be well respected.
Granted a professorship at
The most prestigious school.
A very great man indeed.
Look at the dead spy
Now,
The people will say.
So deceptive,
So twisted,
So lonely
With not a friend to mourn him.
Must be aged beyond his years.
The Dark Taint upon his soul.
The promise of youth dead within.
All possibilities snuffed without.
He was tragedy,
Through and through.