Disclaimer: I don't own anything. J.K. Rowling has it all. I bet she secretly also has Indonesia.
Title: Ode To A Trampled Mind
Author: Punk up the Volume
Author's Note: Well, this is really a spinoff "fic" from my best story, "The Growing Pains of Draco Malfoy: Age 16". In said story, Draco thinks himself to be a world class poet, therefore, I decided to put up some of his horrendous poetry. IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE BAD.
Ode to a Trampled Mind
(Written when he finds that he is failing Muggle Studies)
Oh! Trampled soul!
Trampled mind!
I am repressed, repressed!
Oh! I must break free
of this opressive barrier.
It is not my fault
I am failing
Because I know not of this
'Microwave'
You speak of!
My Ginny
(Written after becoming raptured with Ms. Ginny Weasley)
My Ginny
Oh! My Ginny
When I see you
I get this funny feeling
In the pit of my stomach
Like I am going to throw up
Crabbe said it was love
I thought it was an ulcer
Or maybe acid reflux
I heard acid reflux is really bad for you
So I think I love you
Even if you act a little slutty sometimes
My Ginny
Oh! My Ginny
Skin Diseases
(Written to Ginny during a vacation)
My darling Ginevra
No one can compare
To your blood red hair
And ghost like skin
Maybe you should have that
Checked out
It can't possibly be healthy
Maybe it's a rare skin disease
That I can cure with my love
I am desperately lonely without you
Being without you
Is like when peanut butter sticks to the
roof of your mouth
Well, not your mouth
My mouth really
I meant 'your' as in a collection 'your'
I miss your little tendencies
Like when you bite your nails
During Muggle Studies
You make this sound
Like a gopher choking
Or when you get embarressed and
Puff out your cheeks
You look like a blowfish
But the point is that I miss you
And you god awful habits
And your huge legs
I am like peanut butter without jelly
Or jelly without peanut butter
I hope you miss me just as much
As I miss you
Social Status
(Written during Muggle Studies about his apathy towards the world today)
Why should I care
Who is fighting who?
Or what's going on in the world today
I'm rich
I could have twelve buxom blondes at my beck and call
I mean, if I wanted to
Because Ginny is looking over my shoulder
I don't want to feel her fury
Vitamin C
(Written when worried about how his mother's pregnancy is affecting her love for him)
Mum neglects me
Like I am a spare cat
She forgets my Vitamin C
I could die of scurvy
Then she will be sorry
Oh yes, when I'm gone, she'll be sorry
There'll be no one
To make her tea
I hope she's happy