There is not a hand so weak and white.
There is not a frown so thick.
There is not a body that is so thin.
There is not a heart so sick.
There is not a flesh so scarred and burned,
Not any more tears left to cry,
Not a man who could be more hurt,
I wish he would be mine.
There is not a pair of eyes so old.
There is a blank stare and not a smile.
But there is not a stand of hair so gold,
Yet not a soul as wild.
Underneath there is a boy so proud,
A tender loving friend.
Underneath his shrieking howl,
Is a heart Iâ€™m determined to mend.
Underneath the fur that grows,
Is skin longing to be touched.
Underneath the moons bright curse,
Is a wolf desperate to be loved.
I've gotta say that this is one of the best poems i've ever read, and i'm not lying. i'm not a huge hp fan, so i'm not biased either. i was going to pick out a few lines that most represent this poem, but i can't seem to find any. you did a GREAT job!