In a Nutshell
My thoughts are a diary;
Closed and unwilling to be opened without desperate force.
They are my own, and no matter what you say,
you cannot change them.
My desires are a cave;
With drawings and words etched into its walls.
They are illegible and unreadable, forever kept in secret,
because no one will ever know.
My dreams are a flight of stairs,
With steep steps that show difficulty.
They reach towards the sky, never stopping,
Because they don’t know how.
My memories are a photograph,
That show both the good and the bad.
It’s kept in a locked box, because they will be forever
In my mind.
Closed and unwilling to be opened without desperate force.
They are my own, and no matter what you say,
you cannot change them.
My desires are a cave;
With drawings and words etched into its walls.
They are illegible and unreadable, forever kept in secret,
because no one will ever know.
My dreams are a flight of stairs,
With steep steps that show difficulty.
They reach towards the sky, never stopping,
Because they don’t know how.
My memories are a photograph,
That show both the good and the bad.
It’s kept in a locked box, because they will be forever
In my mind.