Just like her solivagant mind wanders and the soft vernalagnia colors her cheeks, rosy - poetry swells from her inside. What her camera captures, spins words of hope and despair in her.
Where the heart bleeds on to the paper, there springs poetry...
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#BACKTOHOGWARTS
Contrary to what most kids dream, I never dreamt of going to Hogwarts, Or waited for the letter to arrive, For magical owls as the term starts.
Because I didn't read HP as a child, I can hear the boos and the screams, ahem, I didn't because I didn't get 'em in a library And I couldn't afford to buy them.
But yes I read HP as a twenty year old, Did I hear you whispering again? Yes I saw the movies as a twenty too, And not a single effort went in vain
From getting cheap pirated movies in HD, To downloading books in pdf form, From discovering the HP world to diving in, I binged through them all like a storm.
Then I heard people whispering again, You can't be a Potterhead unless, You have something to signify that, You've actually read them all not less.
And so I ended up scrolling one day, For the cheapest merchandise of them all, And I found the hallows pendant, And placed an order with my stipend small
For me thus this world was more than, Just a fantastical escape from the mundane, The stories of magic that I wove, At times kept me well and sane.
Back to Howarts is thus a journey for me, To go back, read between the line And find theories they never said, And themes that appeal just fine.
Because Hogwarts taught me to fight Dementors, Taught me to find the light in the dark, It taught me not to dwell on the mirror of erised, And the seize destiny with my invisible wand's spark.
