I put this in a forum a while back. It's by no means a great piece of art but I'll put it in here for kicks anyway.
A boy sits reading on the playground
With perfect round glasses and sad eyes like Harry
before he found out he was a wizard
And could magick himself to fame and courage
For really, what is Harry without magic?
Nothing at all.
The boy stays away from everyone else
As they throw rubber balls - cherry bombs - and
yell a lot.
And you can tell they make fun of him
And probably steal his glasses or worse, his books
Hide them and stomp them and play vicious
games of keep-away
And the boy stays away from them because of this
Also because books are truer friends than most humans
And also because, maybe, he knows what these kids
will be like when they grow up -
-That is, they won't change much.
On the other side of the playground a girl gazes
Across to the unconcious and spellbound boy
with the perfect glasses
She likes books too but doesn't read on the playground-
She's too busy sailing to Australia on the jungle gym
With her three best friends.
You see, she knows a thing or two about people and
How to be youself and stil be loved,
A lucky trait for a kid.
She looks at this boy when her friends aren't watching
And thinks, for a reason inexplicable,
She would like to kiss him.
To see what he'd do, for one,
And also because he looks as if he could use it,
Maybe.
I don't know if I'm the boy reading
Or the girl sailing -
Or an odd mixture of both.
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