Just One More Day

If I could see you just one more day, I’d ask for a diary, and everything would be ok. I’d ask you for a scribe at school, cool, With whom nobody would fool. He’d write it for me, when I’d dictate, About life, religion, hobbies and the things that I did hate. ‘Cos I couldn’t keep one at home, As my parents my computer used to roam. And they would never have validated a diary for me objectively, Without getting to read it, peering into my mind nosily. It would’ve resolved all my problems dead, Because I know that I did chat with the school doctor and the head. About things not right at home, with my parents, Which were sortable, if I’d been able to recollect what was said in all my appointments. You could’ve ordered my parents not to interfere, With my record of achievements about my fear.