Poems I have written in moments where I am depressed. TW's inside so please do read at your own risk.

You might know the story of the infamous Phantom of the Opera. How he was banished from society, and doomed to forever be alone, and how he loved the rising Prima Donna, Christine Daae. But what if there was someone who saw him? What happens when a curious little ballet rat named Isa wanders to the depths of the Populaire and finds the opera ghost? Will he be saved? or is it too late? (I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, or the characters, or the songs. I only own Isa.) Mostly Andrew Lloyd Webber version, but I might add touches of Leroux. Also the title might change. ENJOY! :)