I am my keepers' diary – My covers bear a likeness to her resolve
My pages are like her fragile heart,
The ink on them are the secrets from the depths of her soul.
In me she confides that which no one else knows
Her joy, pleasure, happiness and pride,
Her anger and rage, her sadness and sorrow.
I know my keeper well – I have felt every flick of her pen
I can tell when she smiles by the gentle turn of a page
Or when she cries and her teardrops fall into me,
I dutifully soak them and hold them forever within.
Her rage! Oh God! Her anger, it stings like the snap of a whip,
As her pen moves swiftly and sharply again and again.
Just when I think I can bear it no longer,
She softly smooths her hand over the freshly scored page
And in that moment, I know she needs me
Like anyone needs a good friend.
I am my keepers' diary – My covers shall never betray her resolve.