She flooded the city with the tears of unrequited love

Latin blood cells had bestowed her with a curse

Too boisterous, too sensual

Always excessive, but somehow not enough

They condemned her for her flaws

but disregarded,

the thoughts of “change” “hope” and “peace” racing through her mind

Be less volatile!

Pretentious minds believed preconceived ideas of her idiocy

but to her family she was an angel walking upon them

sixteen and not yet pregnant

Her world was full of no and I can’t

Nights filled with Voltaire and Socrates

Not Vlad and Hennessy

From ignorance sprung ignorance

They believed in her demise

But she believed in her Success

Boisterous

Sentimental

Too Latin

But to her she was tenacious in her endeavours

to rise above the rest