Skye Weissman
New member
This is not about me or anyone I know, and I usually write happier stuff. I am not depressed, really. I just wanted to write something different for once, something that really conveys a stronger emotion as opposed to just being easy to read, fun... I thought you guys might be able to help me expand my skills. So, here it is:
My Diary
Day 1
I’m sorry I’m not good enough,
But really, I thought I did try.
I don’t know why you act this way,
Why you must make me want to cry.
Just when I think I’ve done it right,
You turn it around to the left.
And when I go to try again,
You just make me feel so bereft.
I don’t know why I feel this way,
But I’ll try again tomorrow.
I just hope later on tonight
I won’t have dreams full of sorrow.
Day 2
Today was like a fairytale,
A book that leaves me so confused.
I tried to tell you how I feel,
But you just scorn and act amused.
Why is my life filled with problems?
I ask , why is my life this way?
My last one must have been sinful
For me to have this price to pay!
I thought today was a story;
It turns out I was very right.
What I forgot to mention is,
There’s no happy ending in sight.
Day 3
Well, here we go again, loved one.
I hope today I’ll do some good.
If there was something I could do,
I hope you know I truly would.
I might not make you happy, Ma’am,
But I don’t want to make you mad.
Whether or not you will notice,
I’ll work to earn love and be glad.
All I want is to be loved,
But it seems to me since he died,
You have no use for girls like me.
For your care I’ll search far and wide.
Day 4
Could it be that you see the truth,
The daughter I want you to see?
But there it goes, that flash of love;
I should have known you still hate me.
I know you miss him. I do too.
I miss our relationship more.
The life I want to see as real
Just leaves behind an open sore.
Why does it have to be this way?
I’ll just have to get used to it.
Until the day you love me true,
I’ll wish and work, then wait and sit.
Day 5
Ah, there it is, from years ago.
A dash of the past rushes by.
The reason why you hate me so
Is not my fault, yet makes me cry!
I found the photos way up high,
Far out of my chubby arm’s reach.
You wish I was kind like he was;
Why won’t you practice what you preach?
I can’t even remember him,
Nor the times that you cared for me.
That must have been so long ago,
Mem’ries impossible to see.
The poem is not done yet, but before I go on I want opinions.
My Diary
Day 1
I’m sorry I’m not good enough,
But really, I thought I did try.
I don’t know why you act this way,
Why you must make me want to cry.
Just when I think I’ve done it right,
You turn it around to the left.
And when I go to try again,
You just make me feel so bereft.
I don’t know why I feel this way,
But I’ll try again tomorrow.
I just hope later on tonight
I won’t have dreams full of sorrow.
Day 2
Today was like a fairytale,
A book that leaves me so confused.
I tried to tell you how I feel,
But you just scorn and act amused.
Why is my life filled with problems?
I ask , why is my life this way?
My last one must have been sinful
For me to have this price to pay!
I thought today was a story;
It turns out I was very right.
What I forgot to mention is,
There’s no happy ending in sight.
Day 3
Well, here we go again, loved one.
I hope today I’ll do some good.
If there was something I could do,
I hope you know I truly would.
I might not make you happy, Ma’am,
But I don’t want to make you mad.
Whether or not you will notice,
I’ll work to earn love and be glad.
All I want is to be loved,
But it seems to me since he died,
You have no use for girls like me.
For your care I’ll search far and wide.
Day 4
Could it be that you see the truth,
The daughter I want you to see?
But there it goes, that flash of love;
I should have known you still hate me.
I know you miss him. I do too.
I miss our relationship more.
The life I want to see as real
Just leaves behind an open sore.
Why does it have to be this way?
I’ll just have to get used to it.
Until the day you love me true,
I’ll wish and work, then wait and sit.
Day 5
Ah, there it is, from years ago.
A dash of the past rushes by.
The reason why you hate me so
Is not my fault, yet makes me cry!
I found the photos way up high,
Far out of my chubby arm’s reach.
You wish I was kind like he was;
Why won’t you practice what you preach?
I can’t even remember him,
Nor the times that you cared for me.
That must have been so long ago,
Mem’ries impossible to see.
The poem is not done yet, but before I go on I want opinions.