The Little Black Book

Stolen from him, his memories lie on the table.
His emotions, there for everyone to see, open.
Demasked, uncovered, his identity stripped.
The shocked look of those he loves saddens him.

Hidden for so long, his secrets kept inside.
Hidden for so long, his mask never failed.
Looking at his feelings, black on white.
Words written out of rage, released from within.

Black on white, the words express his truth.
Black on white, his pen bled the words unsaid.
Looking at his family, paralysed with immobility.
Looking at himself, lying out in the open.

Surrounded around the small black book, silence.
No one knows the words to use, his unsaid for so long.
No one knows what to do, wanting to take his pain away.
Desperately wanting to close the journal, shocked.

Wishing this never happened, praying for a miracle.
Crying for they never saw the secrets covered.
Surrounded, the black book stares blankly back at them.
Hidden for so long, longing to reseal his secrets.

© Fighter