This is a poem about what Harry thought after a particularly bad beating from Uncle Vernon. It is before he knew he was a wizard.
It isn't his fault he did what he did.
It's mine for I am a horrible kid.
When grownups ask and question my bruises
I'll lie to prevent any true accuses.
They must not find out, if they do then I'm dead.
He might hurt me worse, blows to the head.
I dreamt that someone would save me from here.
Someone loving, who'd hold me dear.
It hasn't happened yet and I know it never will
For no one will care if I am killed.
Authors Note: just so you know,English is not my first language (though i'd say I've gotten pretty good at it) so probably a lot of grammar is wrong. Sorry!