You are a diary ,

holding the secrets

of a life ,

hiding them from nosy people.

You are a tiger,

laying in wait of prey,

waiting for an opportunity to

strike.

You are a pencil,

scratching across the page,

calculating the sums answer.

You are a marble,

rolling uncontrollably down the hall,

towards the steps of an

unknowing person.

You are a laptop,

patently to be turned on,

and feel the electricity

surge through you.