The Pen of Dumbledore
Feeling the rustling wind of imagination,
I found Sam standing at one of life's shore,
Full of several thoughts and grievances,
In need of nothing more than the pen of Dumbledore.
He knew his life was somewhere messed up,
Not seeming at all like a prize, award, trophy or cup,
He didn't had an idea of where he was wrong,
Not even his senses were practically working as that too had been consumed by time in a gulp.
Sam felt left out in life's long run,
His negative thoughts seemed prevailing with the setting of the sun,
A life unimaginable and unbelievable had become of his,
Developed the feeling of giving up and nothing could be done.
Smoothness was lost and his life had a lot of breaks,
His past haunted him and kept him awakened with terrible shakes,
He was all dumbstruck and flowing in his faded world,
With the pen of Dumbledore just wanted to correct his mistakes.
A life not so good was all that Sam now expected,
Silly of him to think even as nothing now can be corrected,
Even if he decided to give up swimming and walk to the other shore of life,
People pulled him back watching him walk not swim declaring him again defected.