Somewhere inbetween her soft voice
and angelic laughter,
within her blushing cheeks, as tender and sweet as strawberries freshly plucked out of grandmother’s garden,
in the depth of her eyes in which men got lost like desperate love-letters adressed to the wrong person.
There, within that magical and bruised heart, she had handed out too often,
there lied that childish hope
of eternal love.
She clinged to it through every heart-break,
through tears, shatters and scars,
and yet she smiled,
because she knew that
her heart was soft enough to love again,
and strong enough to fall again.

Jehona Thaqi © if only men knew how strong women are

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