Dear Diary,

Sorry it's been awhile since I wrote.

But I am still in denial,

Even those I was handed a vial.

That will soon take all the hairs,

leaving me bald and scarred.

I can not stop screaming this is not even fair.

One day I was playing hop scotch on the square,

And now I am in Dr. Claire's care.

Cold liquids drips down my forearm,

As I hear my mother's last prayer 

In the next hours I would succumb to the medication.

Dear diary,

It's been five months now

I am starting to find my old natural charm,

And I moved to a rustic farm.

Where I now rasie baby hares,

That love love to nibble on my long brown hair

My bright green eyes glimmer with hope.

As I live the rest of my life here on planet earth.