What I can not have

I ponder and ponder.

As I walk down this road.

I wonder and wonder.

I am on a roll…

Bloody hell, I am rhyming again.

Never the less, I find it amusing.

Poetry… it is so refreshing and alive.

To feel the author's emotions, to feel the passion behind it; I find poetry quite fascinating.

But, of course… I will never admit that to any one. Since poetry is so unmanly?

Who ever invented the theory must have been quite stupid. It is the greatest thing ever invented. Every night I would write poetry to my dear love, hoping one day I could read it to her.

For now, I will keep them safe and hidden.

I look at myself upon this mirror hanging in my dark room and I see a man, well… a young man of 16 years of age. Yes, my dear readers, I am only 16.

And you wonder how can I love someone so much at this young age? How I can understand the meaning of love coming from a family that sided with evil?

At first when I first saw my love, I was not to sure what I felt for her was. I knew my mother had told me about love often, but I was not sure what I felt was love.

After my first year at Hogwarts, I went home wondering what I was feeling towards this girl. I asked my mother and she replied that I was in loved. I was quite shocked.

I asked my mother, if she was ever in love. She said yes; she was once in love with a man, but since she had an arrange marriage with father she could not do anything about it. Pity…

I loved her since the age of 11. Some might think it is simply a crush, but it is more. The love I feel for her is more then you can ever know.

But she does not return the love, for she hates me. But, like Oscar Wilde said:

"I am sick of women who love me. Women who hate me are much more interesting."

Yes, practically the whole population of the school is after me, and even the Gryffindors to my surprise. But, the one I love… is the only girl that despises me in the whole school. I wish to change that.

When this cruel war is over, I shall open my heart to her.

"For, you see, each day I love you more, today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow." Rosemonde Gerard.

Yes, my dear love. For when this war shall end a new beginning shall start.

I have recently stumbled upon a poem that I dare say is heart felt. You might be surprise that I, Draco Malfoy, a man from the house of serpents, and from a family of evil, use the word heart felt.

You might laugh, but I will not listen; for I have my love and one day we shall be together.

Returning on what I said, I found a poem. Yes, I do search for poems that I wish to read to my love one day. It is called: How Will You Kiss?

Lilt me your lips,
our lost breath intermingling.

Synchronize our silence
as lazy hours ease by.

Waft cocoa, hazelnut, cinnamon,
scents around me.

Tremble with me
in paralyzing pauses.

I may no longer breathe
without breathing you.

- Judith Pordon

One day I shall find this Judith and praise her for her work.

I read this poem and I have to say that one tear fell down my check. Of course, I will never admit that to anyone! It shall go to my grave, and of course yours too… and maybe… my loves too. For I shall tell her all, I shall tell all the sweet thoughts I had and have of her, all the pleasant memories…

But that day shall not come soon.

I need to keep her safe and hidden from the ugliness of this world. When the war is over, we shall build a new world together…

As walk or glide as I like to say, towards the red shiny train in front of me, I think… another year of school, another year of torture.

I watch her from the shadows, I smile when her back is turned; but when I face her, I feel as though I might fall. She weakens my defences, she makes me tremble, and she is my love.

I watch her board this train with her fellow friends to my distaste. They are not worthy of her presence.

But, I will not argue. Even though I despise those bloody idiots; they're not all that bad. They are loyal, brave, somewhat intelligent… well except for Weasley, and of course they are fighters. I respect that.

I might dislike Potter; no I do not hate him… the reason for my dislike is for his rejection of my friendship. I was quite humiliated, and of course he insulted me. But, it was not like I did not insult his friends and we do have our differences.

You can not forget that, if I am too friendly with Potter, my father will not be too pleased…

Ah… where was I… yes the train.

As I board the train, I feel my heart racing, my eyes darting everywhere, hoping I shall not bump into my love yet.

But it seems luck is never on my side.

I see her in the distance, her hair cascading down her shoulder in deep brown curls, her freckled nose, her deep brown eyes… I let myself smirk. That is the closest that you will see me smile in public.

…Oh no. Weasley.

He saw me, watching her.

I take a deep breath and set the act.

He seems mad, I see him speaking to Potter and my love rapidly. They look my way and pull there wands out.

Well, here I go.

Another year of torture, another year of my act.

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Tell me what you think; but when it comes to criticism, I only accept constructive criticism. I do not want:

"You're story sucks…" Or "this is pointless…" Or "This story is retarded…" Etc…

If you hate it so much don't read my fucking story and leave. I absolutely hate people that flame stories; it's stupid and the author doesn't give a damn. You're just being a worthless git.

I'm sorry if I offended any one out there, but it had to be told.

I hope you can review my story.

I also thanks my beta: GalaxyStorme!

Thank you.