When I was younger, I wrote in my diary several times a week. (I never could get into the habit of calling it a journal). I've actually lost all my old diaries, which makes me sad. There were very much a part of my life.
Still in 8th grade.
Diary
He listens to all I tell him
He remembers it all for me
He doesn't laugh when I'm sad
He gives me company
He always keeps my secret
He agrees with everything I say
He know what I wish for
He knows all about my day
I can say anything, and he will know my mood
He's my companion and my friend
He tells me it's not my fault
He's with me till the end
When I'm done telling him
he hides away
He comes out only when I call
Only when I say.
No comments:
Post a Comment