She looked like aphrodite, the beauty queen of new Rome, she was helpless with courage deeply hidden, through romance and friendship adventures pulled by the fake memories of fake sins, if her soul brightens does it clench the heart? The fight killed and dull a puncture soul, a shamed to be humiliated with the past that isn't free of loneliness and a family with no attention to her, although aware of beauty, she wishes not to have it, to be more tom boyish with war and her own demons, the avensing angel she believed in, not easily to be perfectly unperfect, victory comes to her personal satisfactory opportunity without optimism with her biggest failure, the duchess of Long Island, the depth made her baffled, trouble scheme and crooked record don't defy her, she oust wanted to be strange than she really was, just not to be here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem