Dear Diary

i am writing like i am talking to you dear diary
my true friend
mama and papa died a long time ago
and i am left with some wounds and scabs and
some injuries that refuse to hear about those
that must die and go away
today, i will tell you something but i will not write it
in your pages

i am happy because i do not think anymore
i am happier because i do not have to write anymore
i am happiest because now i live in my mind away from the

the cage of your pages, i have learned to live and fly away like a bird

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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