Chipping off her red nail paint,
Thinking about her beauty;
As vulnerable as her,
Breakable, fragile and trivial.
She knew she was born in black and white,
The hue of this world was not for her.
She wanted to be one of them,
Yearning for the sense of belongingness.
Caught by the tide of destiny,
Encircled with dreams.
Dreams of breaking free,
Dreams of being free.
Wanted to come to terms with herself,
She was blinded by the light around her.
Sharp, vivid, blinding.
Deafening, alluring, allusive.
Now she cries in that little room,
Yelling out that she was born in black and white.
The hue of the world stole her element,
She realised she never belonged.
But tell her if she knows not,
Her beauty was vulnerable.