The remains of your old diary.

i found the remains of your old diary;

torn and battered, but living still -

it talked to me more

than you ever will

the pages have a funny smell

(the way all great books do)

and once upon a time, i learnt,

that you were Fifteen too

there's only two pages: one says that you will keep it

until the day that you die

and the other is the living proof of how you went

to the bathroom & cried

there's a lifetime to guess, to sit and to wonder

what pages had lied in between

and all the ink that was blotted by tears

that never have been seen

the pages made me a cry a bit

(a tear or two or maybe more)

and i read and i read, again and again - the pains of

the year 1994

i won't be selfish and i will learn the words by heart

(some memories have no expiry)

and i'll bury a treasure for someone else to find;

the remains of your old diary