My Journal, in explanation . . .

In my journal I write prose.
I reserve the right, to "thumb my nose."
I bear my soul, and bare my soul.
I daydream out loud.
Sometimes it's good.
Sometimes it's bad.
And much too often, it's full of sad.

I reserve these renderings,
to a private page cart
(sometimes on computer,
sometimes a penciled part).
Sometimes I use software,
Sometimes blood and tears:
Usually after a few too many beers (or wine in my case).

But what I journal
is so indiscreet
that I can't let you have
EVEN ONE LITTLE private peek--
Not into that world,
that part of me,
THAT IS TOTALLY FREE
OF censorship,
And otheropinionosity.

So, please, forgive
If I don't share,
And don't ask me, please,
the natural color of my hair.

It's all the same,
Don't you see.
So, you journal to you,
and I'll journal to me.