I wonder how he can breathe

Between his insulting words.

After a while, they float over my head

Like passing birds.

Buts it's a shame.

Because he is a total waste of beauty

His smirking lips

Look soft to me

And even though they're cold

His stormy ocean eyes are like a world

On their own

His blond hair is like it's made of silk

But there's nothing underneath

And I think it's strange how that scar never faded

(Even though I put it there, in 3rd year)

And that boy could be so much more

If only he would try.

And it's a waste,

A waste of beauty.

-H.G.

(Authors Note)

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