New Harry Potter poem by me do not read if not read the books

A bright,big scar is etched on your forehead,
Despite the fame and money,you want your mom and dad.
You lost all you  cared for,by the age of one.
Despite all the depresion you still have fun.
Your eyes as green as an Emeralds.
Your hair a messy black.
And even it you cut it all off,
It will grow back.
Harry Potter is your name,
Despite it all you hate the fame.
No money can buy you friends.
This is the end
By the age 11 you saved the sorcerer's stone
the next year you killed  Voldemort,soon to be Alive (again).
Then you saved a man's soul for no gain to you,and though that seems like all to much
That is not all.
Then he won the triwizard tournament and Voldemort was born again.
Next year he learned what he must do in the end.
 The real end