my book of memorys

There is a book
In that book is a page
In that page is a line
In that line is a santance
That santance is made up of words
In those words is someones emotions
In those emotions are someone's feelings
And those feelings are someone's memorys

Past or present, these memorys make no difference
Because the fact that he hides his feelings
Is not because he wishes not to feel his emotions
But the fact that you can't explain them in words
Though he tries to put them in a santance
He masterminds it all to fit on line
So that next time he looks through that page
He may remember why he ever wrote in that book

In that book, he may have written his life
But his life cannot be expressed in a page
For one line cannot hold in all his rage
One santance cannot ease all his pain
A mixture of words could never be enough
For emotions are deep rooted feelings
And these feelings can never be defined
But their memorys can always be relived

#a_Book, #of_Memorys 16/12/14