Dear Diary

Her: "Dear Diary," I wrote To a journal that won't judge or interrupt And so I spilled my thoughts With ink on paper Unaware of a person reading it Through a different book Him: I read, "Dear Diary," As the words spilled across the page before me, Why address the journal, I thought, When I won't judge or interrupt ? I'm just a reader. What could I possibly do? But the more I read, The closer I grew to you, And so, I flipped the page. And wrote to you. Her: I turned the page And to my surprise There appeared a response "To the one who writes 'Dear Diary,' Why do you address a journal When I could be your Diary? You have shared your thoughts Now let me share mine, Let us write together, Line by line." And as I read I have found a new reason to write "Dear Diary," But not to the journal this time But to the one reading it. Him: As I read her words, I have found my muse And I wrote: "Very well, my muse, How many I amuse you? Shall it be poems? Songs? Or letters, Written from your Diary In your diary? They: And so the days passed Pages filled with letters, A never-ending stories Each beginning: "Dear Diary" And ending: "My muse."