No shoulder to cry on,
No one to help her go on.
That's how she grew,
With love and warmth, quite few.
She called this her peace,
Even when she was surrounded by malice.
Broken too many time,
Survived only sometimes.
Staying around everyone,
Yet never noticed by anyone.
She called loneliness her friend,
Yet she was not strong enough to survive till the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem