Emo Corner

Dear Diary,

I wrote a poem.

Here I sit,

In my emo corner,

Full of emo shit.

 (sorry little kiddies :P)

And only some people can be a foreigner.

I look across the room so close,

This emo corner is real.

I take an emo rose,

Holding it out to him to reveal...

The love, blooming..

The friendship, blooming,

Something, which is still happening now.

He slowly carves a beautiful 'M',

And I return the favor to him.

Except, I carve a 'D', and say, "Wow."

If you doubt the reality of this emo corner,

Then you are surely a foreigner.

In my room, I truly have my own emo corner. I even have a Danny corner. But the sad thing is, no one fills it. Especially not the true owner.

I hope that is not something that will apply to my situation forever.