I like this poem. It certainly makes sense that Ginny would wish to be anyone else, at this point in her life. Her previous problems (being the youngest, wearing hand-me-downs) were nothing compared to the incomprehensible disaster she found herself caught up in. This poem certainly deserves a review :)
Author's Response: *bows* Thank you for your gracious review! :) I certainly thought of Ginny when I saw the challenge, and I wanted to capture her young and naive mind in my poem, while still relaying the dangers around her. I'm very happy that you liked the poem. Keep reading!
Not sure why, but your poem reminded me of this - "Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore."
Not a bad comparison to conjure!
Author's Response: Thank you very much! I am flattered that you would want to compare my poetry to more well-known poets. :)