Beauty so strong that it could speak-
But you, my child, are so damn weak.
Your skin so thick it could sink ships-
And so no food shall pass those lips.
Love, you are a pitiful thing-
Letting nothing become eveything.
But here with me you're not alone
I will take your hand and make you strong.
Love,
Ana
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem