Best Of Me Poem by Evelyn Nec

He gets to have the best of me,
He-who-must-not-be-named,
Yes, he is my very own kind of Voldermort.
One second, he is sweeping me off my feet,
and in the next he smashes me in to a wall.
But I fall for him again and again,
Like the scars are invisible.
Uh-mm...he gets to have the best of me.

He gets to have the best of me,
He-whose-heart-is-so-guarded.
Yes, he was hurt by his very own kind of Cruella.
One second he was in love,
and in the next he was stabbed for it.
But he lived to tell the tale of the ugliness of love.
Now I am the punching bag.
Ouch....He gets to have the best of me.

He gets to have the best of me,
He-whose-soul-can-be-softened.
Yes, I am his very own kind of Bella.
One second he hates my guts,
and in the next we are in loving embrace.
Our love is our love, unique indeed,
and for now we hold hands.
Whoa...he gets to have the best of me.