I have a diary its called my "Diary Of Thought,
in it are all the problems that creak within
my lingering cranium. They started off so tiny
but after they encircled they gained ground.

I wrote these problems down in tears and in efforts
to drown out the sound. But a sound is never nulled
it can be a whisper that is louder than any shout.
Hearing it not only in woken moment but dreams they shout.

I lie on my bed, I look at the ceiling an think if I
could be like it white washed with tiny cracks.
My mind has cracks but I fall within them, hiding
within them trying to keep the noises out.

"All my thoughts are in my dairy of thought,
*"But if you open the pages there all blank,