When the envy in Jesika's eyes shows,
I see a person in her that no one quite knows.
Everyone has forgotten her smile,
Pale faced and new Gothic style.
She has a dark way about her,
Muted finger nails and black cat's purr.
Blackened teeth and charcoal hair,
Enough to give Christian children a scare.
Matted and scattered she was torn just like her clothes,
Jesika has been mistaken for a person no one knows.
Each day her jealousy grows by angered diseases,
She comes and goes hurting those that she pleases.
Driven insane by her very own misery's foes,
Where has the once flawless Jesika gone... no one really knows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A melancholy account captured with superlative skill....