I wrote this poem about twenty years ago...wow, incredible how time flys. I always heard my parents and others reminisce about those "days" ...."I can remember twenty years ago....". Jeez...I remember thinking, I'll never say that...whoa, what an awakening. :LOL:
Anyway, this is ...
"Secret Diary"
Weâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re tucked away in a secret diary
Hidden stories never to be told
Part of our lives in a secret diary;
Pages and chapters we wish could be sold.
Smothered adventures lost in time,
Occasionally travel to our conscious mind,
Embarrassing moments we just canâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t escape;
And we think there is no one that can relate.
And when weâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re ready to disclose.
To open our hearts which bury our souls,
With soft spoken words, trembling from dry wilted lips
Our hearts beat quickly felt through our fingertips
Then the skeletons start shattering
As the closet door swings open,
Sweat, chills or tears that sting
Another barrier is broken.
Flashing colors on speeding film;
The director is shouting action;
Stories are told almost against our will
But some we edit to our satisfaction (yes we do).
Above all thought, feelings are real;
Theyâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re not taken nor borrowed;
Then we choose to escape or deal;
With the hand life deals tomorrow.
Copyright 1982
Anyway, this is ...
"Secret Diary"
Weâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re tucked away in a secret diary
Hidden stories never to be told
Part of our lives in a secret diary;
Pages and chapters we wish could be sold.
Smothered adventures lost in time,
Occasionally travel to our conscious mind,
Embarrassing moments we just canâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t escape;
And we think there is no one that can relate.
And when weâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re ready to disclose.
To open our hearts which bury our souls,
With soft spoken words, trembling from dry wilted lips
Our hearts beat quickly felt through our fingertips
Then the skeletons start shattering
As the closet door swings open,
Sweat, chills or tears that sting
Another barrier is broken.
Flashing colors on speeding film;
The director is shouting action;
Stories are told almost against our will
But some we edit to our satisfaction (yes we do).
Above all thought, feelings are real;
Theyâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re not taken nor borrowed;
Then we choose to escape or deal;
With the hand life deals tomorrow.
Copyright 1982
