New poem guys! At last. I wrote this in a very short amoung of time so not the best one :/

It's from the perspective of Hermione, looking out the Hogwarts castle window in the morning of Buckbeak's execution in the Prisoner of Azkaban.

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His great attentive eyes glisten with envy,
Gazing longingly at the birds that fly in glee.
Though the dreams only last for so long,
Really was far beyond where he truly belong.

He watched and dreamed. I felt him sigh.
Until his head dropped for a silent cry.
Why couldn't this just be a nightmare?
I could never forget the hopelessness in his glare.

The morning flourishes with namless color glows.
The clock still ticks and the time still flows.
We can never hide from this terrible lie.
But I still pray for his dream to roam the sky.