Hermione Femalton Poems
|42.||The Old Man||3/5/2009|
|47.||A Place In The Dark||5/11/2009|
|48.||Do You Remember?||5/11/2009|
|49.||The Day The People Died||4/3/2010|
|52.||I Love You||2/20/2009|
|55.||You'Re Not Faded||12/30/2008|
|57.||A Death Note||12/6/2008|
|58.||The Angel With Broken Wings||3/5/2009|
|59.||Bitterness Of Life||1/10/2009|
|61.||Want To Die||12/6/2008|
|63.||Just A Child||12/30/2008|
Comments about Hermione Femalton
Just A Child
Her face is cut and dirty,
Her clothes are ripped and torn,
She sheltered under door-ways;
Weary and forlorn.
Her fragile soul is broken
By her abusive past,
She's the kind of child
That grew up way too fast.
Her father, always drunk,
Her mother didn't care;
And when her father beat her,
Mummy wasn't there.
Her father drunk their money,
Her mother went quite wild.
She shouldn't have to cope with this;
She's only just a child.
Blood coursing 'round your veins,
Heart going mad.
Excitment, fear and pleasure,
Deep breath and up you stand.
Eye on ball; bat in hand,
Feel a twang of fright,
Slow-motion curve the ball does fly,
Ball sweeps round, ball takes flight.