Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter is, alas, not mine. They are JK Rowling's and, sadly, Warner Brothers'. I wish it were only JK Rowling. Or me.
A/N: Chapter two is a poem! Amazing. Well, chapter one was a poem as well, but not really written like one. Anyway, I was inspired (sort of) to write a second chapter and there is a possibility of a third, but I make no promises. I didn't think I would continue this story at all. Thanks for all the lovely reviews and, of course, they are always appreciated, so keep writing them!
On with the story.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Untitled Poem #17
So he liked her.
So he cared for her.
So he loved her, maybe.
He couldn't be sure,
Could never be sure,
Could never let anyone know.
But she had kissed him.
It wasn't right,
Wasn't supposed to happen,
Couldn't ever happen like this.
And he'd pushed her away,
Wouldn't let her touch him,
Wouldn't let his guard down.
Everything was for the best.
Everything was for the better.
Everything was right as it was.
Except that he loved her
And he couldn't tell why
And he couldn't explain it
And he didn't like it,
Even though he'd known it for years.
Could she know?
Did she know?
How would she have found out?
She was only playing games,
Messing with his head,
Playing tricks on his mind.
But how would she have known?
He wanted her, sure,
But she could never know.
He slid down the wall,
Sat, huddled, thinking.
Could she love him too?
-August 13, 2005