Dear Diary, please listen, I won’t say this twice:
I’m fed up with being a good girl and nice.
I try to do right but I mess up instead.
I’m fifteen years old and I wish I were dead!
To give an example of how life can be,
I went to the Dairy Store; Mother sent me.
She gave me ten dollars, we needed ice cream;
“Now, don’t get vanilla, get Cherry Supreme.”
Dear Diary, you’d think that’s a simple request:
“Guests coming for dinner so please buy the best.”
But stupid ole me had to act like a fool.
I wish I were dead; man, this life can be cruel!
What happened, Dear Diary, was this, don’t you see?
The boy right behind me was flirting with me.
The line for the ice cream was long and so slow
We did what we could to fight boredom, you know.
To think that Adonis, this handsome Greek god,
Would look at my acne yet give me the nod
Just blew me away and I lost all restraint.
He flirted so boldly I even felt faint.
“Your eyes are so beautifully blue,” Greek god gushed.
I batted my eyelashes, knew my face blushed.
“I know heaven brought us together,” he said.
(My brain calculated how soon we could wed.)
He was right out of high school, he’d just turned eighteen.
His car parked out front he had painted cool green.
He was visiting relatives right down the street.
“I’m glad you like ice cream; it caused us to meet.”
As we got to the counter, I heard Greek god say,
“On Friday I’ll have to be going away.
Do you like to write letters? I knew you’d say ‘yes!’
I sell writing paper just hot off the press.”
He opened his briefcase and pulled out a box
(This cool looking dude was as sly as a fox.)
“I’ll bet you’d like this one, primroses and such;
It’s only ten dollars and that isn’t much.”
The whole store was quiet, they all listened in.
My face was beet red, and I felt such chagrin.
“I guess I’ll buy this one,” I whispered it low.
He grabbed the ten dollars and started to go.
He never looked back for he spied a brunette
Who stood in the corner, not waited on yet.
I saw him go over, and stick out his hand.
I watched his performance and man, it was grand!
I took my old time walking back to our house.
I’d spent Mother’s money and felt like a louse.
If Mom won’t forgive me for being a flirt,
These pink primrose note cards will be our dessert.
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