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Lily's Poem
May 14, 2016
Harry.
Harry Potter,
My son.
How much I have to tell you.
I must speak quick,
As the veil is thick.
And tears only cloud me from you.
I watched you grow
And grow.
Into the young man I was never blessed with meeting.
You did more than fulfill your prophecy,
Fuelled by my love you spread it far
And wide
To witches
To warlocks
To goblins
And house elves
Harry.
Who deserved so much more.
Harry Potter,
My son.
© Michael T., Letart, WV
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This poem is written from the point of view of Lily Evans (Rowling, J. K. Harry Potter. London: Bloomsbury, 2007. Print.) as she attemps to speak to Harry through the resurrection stone in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Rowling, J. K., and Mary GrandPré. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. New York, NY: Arthur A. Levine, 2007. Print.).