منتديات ماجدة - عرض مشاركة واحدة

21 -05 -2004, 01:21 AM

One Page of my Diary

I always feared the white page I face everyday before I sleep.
There should be something to be written; I say…
There should be something.
And I gaze and think digging deeply into me hoping to find something to say… Something I came up with by the end of the day…
Something useful…
And I gaze and gaze and think again …
Flowers, smiley faces and stars fill the corners
And my page is still waiting to carry a meaning,
To have a life…
Maybe a story … or even a shade.
Words are easy to be said …
Fast to be said too…
But no, not my page… not my words…
They are difficult to come out of their cage.
Shall I employ anger… or patience;
Maybe emotions… or wisdom…
I don’t know what is the colour of my words.
And I set the date …
And look at the time and say: its time to bed
And my page is still blank.
I have something to say…
I have an urge to say…
And then at last I decide what I shall write…
And I make up my mind….
Firmly I hold my pen, and in a nice handwriting I say:

My day passed like any other day

The end

__________________

البحث عن مواضيع لنفس العضو

__________________

العاب بنات