Diary Entry

A story about an Abre,
Beautiful and a saviour,
Careless and destructive,
Devoted to being attentive.

Everything is confusing,
Failures and abusing,
Going against reality,
Her mission is brutality.

Independent in her own way,
Joking about being okay,
Killing every single cell,
Love herself and she’ll do well.

Maybe write about a Scientist,
No one understands,
Obviously he’s getting the gist,
Probably sees no hands.
Quarrelling with his love,
Ruining all he knows,
Showing no faith in up above,
Troubled halo never glows.

Ugly bird without her wings,
Violet flowers, precious things,
Wasting away, each day,
X-ray won’t let her have her way.

Young bird doesn’t want to be a bird,
Zebras appear to be less absurd.

All of this is,
Because a Zebra,
Clearly is,
Deservingly sacred.

Each one is black and white,
Filled with simplicity,
Gentle in day and night,
Honourable in reality.

In her dreams, Bird is good enough,
Just like she never is here,
Killing her confidence, never is she tough,
Loved ones wipe away each tear.

Meaning to be an angel,
Never does time tell,
Obviously, she’s beautiful,
Perfection knows no hell.

Questioning life,
Running away,
Striving to feel alive,
Traumatised by each day.

Unbreakable within,
Violet skin breaking,
Wrinkles appearing,
eXtraordinary dreaming.

Youthful angel fell down long ago,
Zebras run across such soft snow.

Always,
Beautiful,
Confident.

All because they’re B and W.