My Diary

Dreams and thoughts purely of my own,
Slowly onto the surface were sown.
My life was all written,
Fingernails slightly bitten.
On pages of a tree,
Memories of me.
There it lay scattered with ink,
In this diary my life did sink.
Brought back tears and smiles,
When read by people from miles and miles.
It seems as though sleep came over me,
But by spirit I'm there, as my diary is kept and soon someone will see.
The long and dreamy life of me...