It's strange to know that you are not here,
No source of constant blab is near.
No questions, no requests for advice,
No justified replies for something not nice.
And the moment you see your parents' daughter,
No questions about Harry Potter!
About flying brooms, magic sticks,
Harry, Voldy, or Bellatrix!
No annoyance, no frustration,
No more fights, no irritations.
All is calm, yet not quite a joy,
For what's there to do without you, boy?
No one to fight with, no one to tease,
No questions to answer, when we both make peace!
No chatter or laughter, anymore...
Without you bro, it's quite a bore!
Yet it's something, that I'll never admit –
That I miss you, uh! I sound like a twit!
So I'll mask my joy with a face of sorrow,
When you return home, day after tomorrow!
