She is quiet and has eyes that not many can read,
her soul has been to a dark pace and berried.
She cries only when she is alone,
she has hidden herself behind the walls of the unknown.
She has little left within her soul,
her heart is covered in a thick layer of charcoal.
She dreams of the day when her smile does not need to be applied,
when her happiness isn't a lie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is what I call suffering but smiling. A lovely piece of poetry, written with insight to drive home the point. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.