The boys were tyrants, thieves, a mess,
Their Gryffindor ties hung loosely from their necks,
Although frowned upon by many in school,
Most looked up to them,
They thought they were cool,
But nothing could cause the four to wither,
In the eyes of Lily Evans.
One was an arrogant, messy haired fool,
He played Quidditch,
A chaser,
Apparently he was cool.
The second was a rebellious boy,
Who loved nothing more than ruining his parents' joy,
Got into Gryffindor,
Black sheep of the Blacks,
A family of old,
Always Slytherin,
Looking back.
The third was a quiet boy when first met,
Loved reading in front of the fire, he'd sit,
Only when they got close,
Would they learn his secret,
Every month,
Every full moon,
They would meet,
One stag,
One dog,
One rat,
And one beast.
The fourth was a strange one,
In Lily's eyes,
Quiet at first but had begun to despise,
Disrespected and ignored for most of his life,
Fear and hate all burst out at once,
And he walked away,
Joining the dark side.
The birth of a son,
To the boy she once thought arrogant,
A job for a werewolf,
Who thought he'd be doomed,
Inheritance from a family,
The second had thought all despised him,
The stag,
The dog,
And the werewolf were here,
But the rat had long been of the dark side they feared.
With war came two deaths,
For which one took the blame,
At the hands of the rat,
In the ultimate betrayal,
And of course the dog would escape some day,
But for now the wolf was alone again.
And as she looked back on her life as she died,
It was all thanks to the Marauders,
In Lily Evans' eyes.
