Sunday, November 16, 2008

My Diary

Scattered thoughts
and broken words
on weathered pages
from long ago
locked inside
a tiny child
comes alive
her voice
still speaks
a child now gone
entrapped in words
kept away
for me alone
to remember again
that child,
and feel again
those memories
to find again
who I was
to see again
myself
the me
nobody knows




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