blonde but beautiful
she was blonde but beautiful,
the air in her hair.
she was all but full,
of what she had despaired.
she filled her image,
with anything but hate.
she hated they way they took,
away from anything that resembled fate.
i wish she could see,
the way i saw her.
for i saw something beautiful,
in the way she looked.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem