My Miserable Life
(A/N: This is my first fic for METMA. It's from the point of view of Harry's wand after it was used to create the dark mark. It's a poem)
Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns all the characters, whoever made up the English language made up these words. I just put them together to make a stupid poem.
Thank you to WWW.RHYME.LYCOS.COM for helping me make the rhymes. Now onto the poem!!!!!

My miserable life
should come to an end
even though I am
Harry's best friend

Not really
but I like
to think I am special
like my brother Ike

Ike is Voldemort's
You-know-who loves him
Harry doesn't love me
I feel so very dim

I feel so betrayed
when someone uses
me for a bad thing
Everyone accuses
me

It's not my fault
I follow the rules
I do what I'm told
I'm just a tool(s)

I wish I had
a better master
I don't want to be accused
or I'll have to run faster

I'm made of wood
just eleven inches
when I am waved
Harry always flinches

I made the dark mark
I admit it with shame
I will never do bad
never eeeeeeeeeeever again.
(A/N: Sry. Jerichoholic here)