She has a heart made of a spider net
A soul trapped in a dreamcatcher of gold feathers
A gipsy soul hidden in the depths of broken thoughts
She has fire inside, a fireplace of passion within her bowels
The world has break her many times, her love teared to pieces
Her dreams scattered like porcelain dolls stitched too many times
An imperfect beauty, many times rebuilt
A shattered soul, a fragmented heart
And yet, she fights every day, with every feeble ray of light
She finds the strength in the middle of a numbing pain
To stand up and walk the path again
She is a woman
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