Harry gazed around Hagrids hut in astonishment.On the ceiling, ornate objects balanced like they were defying gravity.The smell of jaw-breaking cookies served with tea wafted up your nose.Adjacent to the table, a crusty carpet lay asleep on the cold hearted floor.Outside the door, a hippogriff called Buckbeack pranced, perfect pumpkins displayed themselves to people passing and a unique scarecrow waited for unwanted visitors.
The old seagull
The gentle seagull,
is a black sheep,
in the flying flock.
The once new member of the family,
now traveling at the back,
yearning to Ben loved again.
Its young pure voice,
slowly evolving over its existence,
like a Oreo crumbling after getting dunked in warm milk.
It’s beady beastly eyes,
watched as the sun dipped below the horizon,
while scanning the ocean bed for prey.
You are the questions inside his head,
never been answered and never will,
like a cliffhanger.
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