Dear Mr. Potter

If you're like me, childhood ends on July 15th, 2011. This poem is for all of us who believe that magic is only a page turn away.

Dedicated to J.K Rowling, and the home she built for me.

Long Live The Boy Who Lived.



In the year 1997,
Britain gave Hong Kong to China.
People were massacred in Algeria.
A Picasso painting was stolen.

In the year 1997,
a gallon of gasoline was a dollar seventeen.
Missy Elliot topped Mtv's playlists.

In the year 1997,
3,880,894 people were born.
Among them are
Gresyson Chance
Cody Simpson
Chloe Moretz
Myself
and
Harry Potter.

And Mr. Potter,
this one's for you.

Because on June 30th, 1997
you were born,
and so were millions of muggles
who'd been waiting their entire lives
for a little magic.

That was fifteen years ago, now.
And I wish I had Hermione's time turner,
because, Harry, it's gone so fast.
And I can't believe it's almost over.

I remember when I was seven,
and for me, Harry, you had just turned eleven.
I found you, then, for the first time
and it was beautiful, Harry,
how you taught me to fly.

Four years later,
I waited at the mail box
for my letter to arrive.
And I dreamt every night
of the adventures we could share
the triumphs we'd live.
The battles we'd fight.

I like to think I got the letter, Harry
because you taught me that magic
no matter the boundaries
is the greatest gift of all.
And could be found within me
If ever I sought it.

You taught me to follow the spiders
even when it might be easier
to follow butterflies.
You taught me that happiness could be found
in even the darkest of times
If I simply remembered.
To turn on the lights.

You taught me about love,
and how its powers triumph all.
You taught me about bravery
when the best of us, begin to fall.

But most of all, Harry,
You gave me this:
You gave me the desire
to seek the snitch.
You showed me
to open at the close
to believe in friendship
to rely on love
and live for magic.
You gave me a scar of lightning
round glasses, red and gold robes.
And Harry, I want you to know,
that I wear them proudly
Everyday.

You have your mother's eyes, Harry,
You have your father's heart.
So thank you for showing me
that life is lived apart.
That when I'm lost, when I'm confused,
I've got a home at Hogwarts.
That no matter where I go,
you'll walk with me,
the entire way.
Until the very end.

You've made me who I am, Harry,
this mad and twisted Ravenclaw.
And without you, Mr. Potter,
without the Boy Who Lived,
I can only imagine
where I might have thought to fly.
Because without you, Harry,
I wouldn't have realized,
that all I needed was a cupboard
under the stairs.

So thanks for the ride, mate.
Thanks for the spells.
And forever, I solemnly swear,
that I'll be waiting, up to no good, to meet again
someday.
Lost in the pages of the home
that you have given me.

I'll meet you on Platform 9 and ¾
and we'll stare out the train windows
at all of our memories,
rushing by.

Thank you, Mr. Potter
for everything.
With you here, all is well for me.
And I'll believe the same of you.

It's ending now, mate
but not for good.
May our mischief
never manage.

I'll see you in the common room, Harry,
When I'm lonely, from time to time.
I'll meet you in Diagon Ally,
when I need a little magic.
When I'm lost, when I'm upset,
I'll count on you to save me.

This isn't the end, Mr. Potter
for friendship never dies.
And if I leave my heart in the Chamber, Harry,
I know you'll bring it
back to life.

Thanks for the memories,
for wizard chess, and exploding snaps.
Thanks for the ride, mate.
Quidditch games, and Potions class.
I'll see you again, soon, I know
so don't forget me,
because I'll never
forget you.

Long live the Boy Who Lived,
and those of us who lived beside him.
May our magic never falter,
may our wands point high, forever.

Thank you, Mr. Potter
for our worlds,
and the stories built there.

Thank you, Mr. Potter
for bringing me
to life.