I lost my little notebook,
The green one I used to write poems in.
Must've written a thousand poems there.
All tankas and haikus.
Although no one escaped
The flood that tore it all away.
Why must the world mock me so?
Not one escaped.
It's a shame that trash can't appreciate it more than a daily snack.
Can't see through it as more,
I lost my little green notebook,
Filled with pages
And memories
Though sad,
Were meant to keep.
It was a part of me.
And it still it.
I lost my little green notebook.
YOU ARE READING
The Words That Hope To Carry,
Poetry"I don't want to be the one Who breaks down at the cost of something very little. Or rather, what seems like something very little to others, But means a breaking point to me." A series of poems, haiku's, tanka's, readings, stories, and monologues...
