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Dear Diary
DEAR DIARY
Dear Diary,
Who would have thought?
Who would have guess?
Tis you who sang our secrets.
Tis you who unregistered our puzzle.
Twenty clandestine years of covertness
Now shredded by greed and avarice.
Had your taste be known to me,
Never to your white pages would my ink have trotted.
Let not the potent spices of your mendacious bind
Serenate and epitomize your new found fame.
To this mockery of loyalty I cry not tears of betrayal!
A better pine tree I shall find and harvest.
Her soft circular truck shall bear womb to my new secrets.
In wilderness or borough she will wholly welcome
The calligraphy of all my secrets and fondness.
Who would have thought?
Yes, Tis you who sang our secrets.
Who would have guess?
Yes, Tis you who unregistered our puzzle.
