My Journal

Taking my notebook,

I write why I'm hook.

Spouting my anger,

pen as my dagger.

Calm after feelings said,

now filled with dread.

I felt like a traitor,

apoligizing later.

Feelings pouring out,

boogers from my snout.

I see what this is about,

there is no room for doubt.

We write our confessions,

which turn into lessons.

I write how I feel,

making it a big deal.

The good the bad,

even when I'm sad.

My journal is precious,

it shows my expressions.