The unopened diary lies,
Writing onto itself,
Telling its owner's life,
To eyes unknown.
Secrets revealed,
Lies unearthed,
Still the diary writes,
Till the time has come.
Shaking now,
The diary sleeps,
In it's own solitude,
It closes and weeps.
When the owner awakens,
It has no choice,
Write... Just write,
Saddened, the diary sighs.
It tells the tales,
The owner unknown,
Eyes scanning,
Anger erupting.
So now the diary is shut,
The owner now knows,
No regrets anymore,
Burned, the diary dies.
Keeping his life in check,
The owner smiles,
He goes to sleep,
And continues to kill.
The ashes disappear,
Hinges replaced,
The diary is back,
To continues its work.
The owner sneaks,
The diary narrates,
Words dancing across paper,
With no pencil in sight.
Parents find the mystical book,
Deciding now to take a look,
A record from day one,
Until the final day is done.
Parents unhappy,
Truths made published,
The diary continues to write,
Forever refreshed.
Thirty-odd years later,
The diary now written by hand,
"These were my problems,"
Over the years, of time's sands.
"I'm the culprit,
I'm to blame,
But not only I,
But you too."
Th diary closes one final time,
The owner now lies,
The coffin full,
The owner smiling.
A note on the lifeless diary,
Now forever known,
Decides the fate,
To be kept or thrown.
"Read my life,
Know my secrets,
I've no regrets,
I've nothing to hide."
The family now curious,
They begin to read,
The pages blank,
From start to finish.
Honorable mention
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