This is a post,
This is not a poem.
These are just lines
That seem to rhyme
I’m sitting on the floor right now,
Going through old diaries
Nothing new in any, but still amusing to read.
There’s a special one that has papers in it
… there’s even a drawing… OF ME!!! LOL.
But one little one stands out.
It’s the tiniest of them all.
A tiny rectangle of paper, not bigger than my finger
And on it, is my name.
JUST. MY. NAME.
And that really is the only one that matters.
Because you wrote it.
I miss you Omelette, I miss us.
And if things don’t work out
I’ll thank you for how you’ve patiently helped me grow.
and I’ll still wish you everything good…
Same as I wish myself. ♥