I bought a brand new notebook.
With floral print and purple lines,
For the brand new school year,
To show them how I shine
But now it’s half way through the school year,
And my notebook has lost its glow,
It’s like as if my floral notebook,
Somehow really knows,
My mood and all my feelings,
And as I begin to age,
Like my floral notebook,
I seem tattered at every page.
When I reach the end of my notebook,
I fear what the story will hold,
Stripped of the words on the pages,
My heart soon growing cold.
I remember all the lessons,
And hope one day I understand,
That the stories in this notebook,
Are worth all the ink marks on my hand.