I do not own Harry Potter, but I do own the poem.
She was sitting under her tree in the Forbidden Forest It was the beginning of her 5th year, and she was already becoming very depressed. What she overheard on the way downstairs had been the straw that broke the camels back.
--flashback--
"None of us have enough time, or want to do it for that matter. So ask Ginny to do it. It's not like she has anyone who'll take up her time. If you hadn't noticed she doesn't have any friends."
Ginny came storming down the stairs. "Harry James Potter, that is quite possibly the meanest thing that I've ever heard said about me!" She punched him HARD in the face. All the force she had in her small frame was put behind her arm. He was knocked flat on the ground, and was left with a bloody nose, and an already forming bruise. "If you'll refrain from talking behind my back then I'll never have cause to hit you that hard again." She gave him a glare that would rival Malfoy's, and rushed out of the room before her brother to recover enough from the shock to attack her, and Hermione to lecture her about violence.
She ended up where she always did, under her tree.
--end flashback--
"I knew a lot of people think of me that way, but even my friends think of me as friendless. How pathetic am I. They arent really my friends. I don't have any friends, and I don't need ay either!" she repeated as if to reassure herself of the fact.
Ginny sighed, and opened her notebook. She began to write.
No one knows me,
No on cares.
No one loves me,
No one dares.
To most I'm shy,
Afraid to say Hi.
I'm really depressed,
Must I digress,
The reason why,
I often cry.
A love gone wrong,
A lovers song.
We never kissed,
But I stil miss,
His dark brown eyes,
They told no lies.
The way he wrote,
He seldom spoke.
My one and only
He left me lonely.
He was my only friend,
But no one can mend
Tha damage that's done,
The battle was one.
The good side triumphed,
But I still lost.
My greatest love,
Was the cost.
For him I write
This poem tonight.
Wish you were here.
I miss you dear....Diary.
No one else would know who the poem was about. Tom. She still mourned his death for years later. Even though she was over him she sometimes wondered what it would have been like if he had been born into her time. She sat and read over the poem again, and remembered all the others she had written for him.
She wasn't over him.
--end chap--
She was sitting under her tree in the Forbidden Forest It was the beginning of her 5th year, and she was already becoming very depressed. What she overheard on the way downstairs had been the straw that broke the camels back.
--flashback--
"None of us have enough time, or want to do it for that matter. So ask Ginny to do it. It's not like she has anyone who'll take up her time. If you hadn't noticed she doesn't have any friends."
Ginny came storming down the stairs. "Harry James Potter, that is quite possibly the meanest thing that I've ever heard said about me!" She punched him HARD in the face. All the force she had in her small frame was put behind her arm. He was knocked flat on the ground, and was left with a bloody nose, and an already forming bruise. "If you'll refrain from talking behind my back then I'll never have cause to hit you that hard again." She gave him a glare that would rival Malfoy's, and rushed out of the room before her brother to recover enough from the shock to attack her, and Hermione to lecture her about violence.
She ended up where she always did, under her tree.
--end flashback--
"I knew a lot of people think of me that way, but even my friends think of me as friendless. How pathetic am I. They arent really my friends. I don't have any friends, and I don't need ay either!" she repeated as if to reassure herself of the fact.
Ginny sighed, and opened her notebook. She began to write.
No one knows me,
No on cares.
No one loves me,
No one dares.
To most I'm shy,
Afraid to say Hi.
I'm really depressed,
Must I digress,
The reason why,
I often cry.
A love gone wrong,
A lovers song.
We never kissed,
But I stil miss,
His dark brown eyes,
They told no lies.
The way he wrote,
He seldom spoke.
My one and only
He left me lonely.
He was my only friend,
But no one can mend
Tha damage that's done,
The battle was one.
The good side triumphed,
But I still lost.
My greatest love,
Was the cost.
For him I write
This poem tonight.
Wish you were here.
I miss you dear....Diary.
No one else would know who the poem was about. Tom. She still mourned his death for years later. Even though she was over him she sometimes wondered what it would have been like if he had been born into her time. She sat and read over the poem again, and remembered all the others she had written for him.
She wasn't over him.
--end chap--