She was in love with appreciation,
she was in love with the names,
she put them all above.
She was driven by thirst to be loved and cherished,
she did everything to please them,
still, she could never become their gem no matter how much she grinds.
Everyone loved roses she was a daisy, a raven,
so she painted herself red and wore the skin of dove to please them.
Slowly yet she was fading and withering away,
it was never enough.
All, in the end, she got betrayed by the world and by herself,
her heart got filled with grief for letting her self down,
for billeting her courage and killing her dream.
Her pain became her heal,
she glued her heart together,
she took her picture off from the corner of the dusty shelf.
Now here she stands as herself.
A strong pillar who runs a nation.
A creative mind who rules peoples heart by ruling pen and paper.
In so many ways she is you, she is me,
but most important she is herself.