|
Post by streetpoet on Sept 29, 2011 21:37:30 GMT -5
Her Diary
From our first phone dialect she told me I was easy to talk to And it became our everyday ritual for her to tell me of her day’s events & what she went through Slowly, over time she began to tell me her inner most secrets from her soul And I pledged to her, to keep them between us, to never let another know No judgments passed, truly an open ear just to listen and hear The comfort of my voice to ease away the pain and fear
She etched her inner most thoughts & feelings on the lines of my heart Promising never to tell a soul, from my lips they shall never part Somehow I became her diary
I’m her confidant, her refuge in the midst of a storm Her safe haven, her sanctuary, the arms that keep her warm A comforting blanket when she doubts herself or is feeling insecure The reassuring voice that says you can do it, and I will always be right here The one that kisses her intimately on her forehead The one that will continue to love her long after I’m dead
She etched her inner most thoughts & feelings on the lines of my heart Promising never to tell a soul, from my lips they shall never part Somehow I became her diary
|
|
|
Post by R.E.T.S. on Sept 30, 2011 20:16:31 GMT -5
That was absolutely amazing. You have a way with words that transcends the excellent. Keep at it, my friend!
|
|
|
Post by streetpoet on Oct 1, 2011 22:26:30 GMT -5
Thank you R.E.T.S. those words are greatly appreciated.
|
|