The time tick…tick
Ticks away,
The vain
Worries of wrinkles and aging seem
Disproportionate to my pain
The useless cause of the stick
In my back may
Prevent me from redeeming my name
Malfoy, it is,
But Weasley is the stick
Her charms making me sick
Sick in love, that is.
How can I concentrate on wealth
When my Rose sits by me,
Causing me poor health,
With all her distractions.
Her hair
Her nose
Her eyes
Her clothes
Her teeth
Her smile
They all make it worthwhile-
I endure
My slipping grades
And fallen rep
To watch my Rose
Talk to my Rose
Fall harder for my Rose.
I endure.
"Scorpius," she says one day.
"I'm tired of it- all we do is play!-
We dance around the topic of love,
When we fit each others' personalities like gloves-
Can't we kiss just once, for fun,
Please-"
I cut her off before she's done-
Her lips are the apple of temptation, and I am Eve.