Ode to my notebook
Ode to my notebook for being so brave,
For carrying my thoughts and memories,
All tattered and torn over the years,
Rushing through the turmoil of sitting in a backpack,
Being poked with a pencil every now and then,
For keeping my secrets hidden within its remains.
Ode to my notebook for living through the moments,
When I’d throw it across the room,
Or hug it to my chest,
Full of confessions,
It’s the only thing I can pour all my trust into.
Ode to my notebook for sitting in a box,
Lonely and silent it lies there abandoned,
Replaced by a fresh, clean notebook for use,
It waits alone,
Yet it still holds my stories,
Still holds my memories,
Still is my best friend.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of my Stories... enjoy!
General FictionThis collection includes stories of all kinds, ranging from living with a crazed cannibal, to dying at the sight of color. With a main genre of horror and adventure, these little stories will surely keep you on the edge and will leave you craving an...
