The Little Pink Book

For what a terrible feeling is sorrow and despair

And when one is ravenously hungry for laughter and joy

But all ‘round is depression and those who don’t care

Who may be in charge of this ploy

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When one knows the terrible emotion cannot get worse

She writes it all down in verse

It seems to be the only way for others to know how she feels

Because they wont listen any other way

And yet no one is allowed to see it

It is hidden away and closed with a seal

It’s all in her little pink book

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The book is always patient and doesn’t interrupt

And it always forgives her, no matter what

It is kind and does not judge

In its silence it listens to what she has to say

And keeps her company when she starts to pray

That her life may be better yet some day

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Some pages are written in an impatient hand

Full of excitement and joy

For she couldn’t wait to write it all down

Before her mind let it all slip away

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But some of the pages are stained with tears

Stories of low scores and cruelty of peers

Scribbled short and to the point

She wants to finish recording and cry

Because she just couldn’t hold it in if she tried

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One entry date was September the first

She was having a terrible day

And she felt her life would only get worse

So she took some time to pray

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“Oh Lord, please give me a sign

Or someone to put their hand in mine

To guide me through my life, eliminate the strife

Who will promise to be there for me—I can’t go on like this;

I need someone to help me, and from whom I will receive my first kiss.

I am a terribly lonely girl.”

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Then that night she spoke to him

She’d been secretly in love for half a year

Before this day her path was dim

But that would all soon disappear

For to each other, they confessed their love

He said he loved her too!

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From that day on her life felt complete

He was terribly nice and oh so sweet

And they would do anything for each other

And loved one another so much

Nothing could tear them apart,

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And nothing ever did.

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And all was recorded in her little pink book.

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Ahh.. WolfSinger likes to write in the third person.