The Poem

I want to be free

I want to be in control of me

I want to run away

Hide away

Get away

Fly away

But I can't

In this life

I want to be loved

I want to be up above

With my family

I want to run away

Hide away

Get away

Fly away

And I can.

Harry smiled sadly down at his poem; he would see Sirius and his parents soon, his real family. He looked down at his arms, at the crimson blood dripping out of them and down on to his poem, he would be dead soon, if the blood loss didn't kill him, the lack of food would. He glanced at his chest he could see all his ribs. Harry sighed and turned to look out the window, leaving his poem on the bed. He looked up at the star lit sky, wondering who would find his broken body, probably Dumbledore, when I don't go to Hogwarts, he thought bitterly, no one cared about him and no one ever would... accept his parents and Sirius. Harry picked up his quill again and dipped it in his blood, he had used up all the ink weeks ago, he signed his name at the bottom of his poem and went to sleep, and he never woke up again...