I'm like a closed diary, I'm padlocked shut to hide what's inside me.
My pages are fresh because no one can read me, my pages are still white because finger prints can't dirty me.
I'm right under your nose tempting you to open me up, but as you try and try failed attempts urge you to give up.
My secrets remain within me and my thoughts stay secret.
And while most events are meant to stay in the past, it's these things that hurt me deepest. And while most people react immediately to what is going on around them, i keep it to myself and tell my heart ;my diary, my problem.
And even though it appears that i write this poem to show others, this is just another diary entry for only me to see
because no one may fully understand the affects that this or that may have on me
so i just record it into my tired diary,my heart.
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