:: | Diary | ::
It's time you looked into my eyes. Deep inside I don't really
care what is wrong. Why do you want my advice? It's hard
for me to tell you what you don't want to hear. Stop asking
me about your problematic life. A lost coin toss-up, where I
wind up saying something before I can retract my own voice.
Only after will I know that I have gone and stumbled, fallen.
I need to learn to have more control. Time and again my life
gets pushed to the back of the line. I feel I don't belong in
your diary where you lie about what is real. Personified by
your make believe stories. You're wrong. Now it's clear to me,
the visions of your life I've grown to know.. You write them
down on me, your pages in my head, your diary to show that
your life at times is more complex than others. But we all
have hard times, just move on. Personified by what you make wrong.