Feasting on oatmeal at midnight
Doesn’t feel right
My porcelain skin covered in soot
I run out the door in boots
My white parchment is covered with charcoal!
Horrible! Doesn’t align with my soul
My fair cream covered with dark grease
Remove it this instant please
I like the bright, almost white fire. But I don’t like the dark ashes it leaves behind
I’ll dust the darkness off, never mind!
My tender coconut flesh covered with black dust
I chuck it away for I don’t like black, its rust.
But what a symphony, a melody
Is created by the paradox, the irony
For our white bones are just as strong as the black onyx
White and black, this bond we have to fix
For the queen of the night, the dark tulips are just as alluring as the white daisies
White and black, we own day and night. We both are beautiful when we please
For chocolate and milk taste good
White and black, a companionship as diverse and playful as the woods
For the white polar bear and black panthers are just as rare
White and black, make a good pair
But most importantly, my white paper covered in black ink is alive
Only in harmony, can black and white survive
