Disclaimer: Ok, someone tell me, why I have to retype this a thousand times! ARgh… whatever… I do not own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, etc… etc… etc… Now, on with the poem:
Feelings
You don't even know me.
Don't try to piece apart what I say.
It isn't real.
I can't feel what I say;
I can't say what I feel.
So how would you know,
If what I'm saying is real?
How can a life so tangled
Look as straight and clear
As combed blonde hair,
When it's not what I feel.
Everything
that I touch
Adds more to that I feel,
So, I must hide what's truly me,
For, it's dying… for real.
Authors Note: Very sorry about not updating! I had a serious case of Writer's Block! Anyways, this poem means: Even a cold Slytherin has feelings, feelings that he must hide.
Ahhhh, it makes me so sad, though… sniff… sniff… poor Drackie!