The pages of my old book,
Hold my memories of yesterday,
Every smile, every tear,
Every person who came my way...
Every incident I cleared
As stepping stone,
That led my path though jungles,
Bushes,shrubs,or grass,
The oceans,rivers,streams,or rivulets,
Waded though them in so many storms,
There were times,when things went smooth,
Were others when I slipped downhill.
The mountains and creeks,the ponds and puddles,
The heart that felt every blow,
The mind that observed things in silence,
The crushes,to romance to the lores of love,
I flew across like the mighty falcon.
My diary each of every year.
Told an adventure I went through each year,
Those relentless aspirations I worked for.
Those stupid accausitions I fought against.
Oh my beautiful diary,that remains me,
Of my life's successful stories.
Is held close to my heart,a thing to cherish


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