In this book I write about
My feelings, my thoughts
All that will never be
Or I was to blind to see
Happiness, sadness, joy, and fear
Are the things in my life
I will always have near
I use my pen and write about my feelings
And what I have inside
This book is filled
With scattered dreams
The things I once had
And the things that deceive
In my hand I hold a pen
With this ink
I dot down my dreams
The things I think about
Even the things I don’t believe
This book is a voice
No one wanted to hear
So I write with my pen
Because that’s all that was ever there
This is my book
This is my sorrow
The things I see
With hopes
For a better tomorrow