Stripes Of Zebra

Neither a horse.
Nor a cow allowed the attention.
Or a giraffe quickly identified.
Roaming alone in a jungle.
Unaware of being soon victimized.
Quite different is the zebra.
Yet mysteriously seldom seen.
To be prancing around found to flaunt,
Its unique appearance.
Wandering attempting to be a scene stealer.
As if to know it could.
Here, there and anywhere a zebra may go.
Stopping to attract.
Without a want or need to do that.
Yet...
So rare enough to manage to get it.
While minding its business.
To conduct,
Whatever it does to do.
In a place to be observed and witnessed.
But appearing so different,
And out of place.
Few wish or seem want to dream,
Being a zebra that unique...
Only God knows the answers as to why,
He or She...
Decided to create a zebra,
With black and white stripes.
Leaving this creation left not to wonder,
If the zebra experiences...
Racism, bigotry or ancestral hatred.
Like human beings,
Also ethnically created to be different.

'Zebras?'

Yes.
Zebras.
When was the last time,
You saw them fighting amongst themselves...
For attention to get.
Or territory to control over?

Maybe,
This is discussed between them privately.
Using common sense.
And intelligent awareness to know.
Together they can get more accomplished.
With it done to do.
Already knowing when you're that different,
Why bother with pretensions.
Or charading to masquerade,
Wishing to want to be,
Like everyone else in the crowd...
Seeking approval and acceptance.

'But...
What do they do?
And how successful are they at it?'

No one knows.
And...
Maybe they are happy to be left alone.
Minding their business.
Human beings have yet,
Been able to do that for themselves.
When was the last time you saw a zebra?
Or heard one bragging about,
What they've got!?

'That's not going to happen.'

Exactly.

'I wouldn't know where to go to find or see,
Any at all.'

That time to waste is not yours to afford.
Too rare and genuine they are.