FROM CHIZZY’S DIARY
👇👇👇
POEM 44
𝙊𝙣 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙖 𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙬𝙨
𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙚
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙, 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙
𝘼 𝙬𝙖𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙟𝙖𝙧, 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙖𝙩
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚, 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚,
𝙄𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩, 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙟𝙤𝙮
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙙, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮
𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣
𝘼 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚, 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣
𝙉𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙚, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙪𝙚𝙡, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙.
𝘼 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙’𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩𝙡𝙮, 𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙝𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙢𝙨 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚
𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙫𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙗𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙤.
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙩 𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙨, 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙨
𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙧, 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨
𝙎𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙬, 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬
𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙬
𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜,
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙬, 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.
✍️ 𝘾𝙝𝙞𝙯𝙯𝙮 𝙐𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙠𝙬𝙪

