Dear Diary

Wed, 04/24/2019 - 17:12 -- Emily13

The handheld time capsule which

I grasped ever so tightly

greatly captivated me

My train of memory couldn’t

replenish the tracks that lie

Within the depths of these

pages with tales of huge hurdles

and major dramas

of an elementary student

 

Oh how did one survive getting everything handed to them?

Unbearable.

 

As I opened up the door to the past,

Which was hued with pink

and complemented with glitter

I wrinkled my face in disgust

Reading through the theatrical

pages, I bursted out into laughter for

only such exaggerated scenes exist in

movies

 

Was this really me who

wrote such deranged layouts of a day

and supposedly being madly in love

at age 7

And tell me, who on earth likes the color pink?

 

I look down at this person, familiar yet unrecognizable

in comparison to myself.

That six year old mentality has indeed faded,

But I mustn't deny that there are still

traces of that glitter.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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