My book of English poems, written since 2005, shows my dark-comedic side; though sometimes the events I wrote about weren't very funny at all.  Nonetheless, they are a part of me.   I hope you enjoy...


I used to be so pretty
The wear and tear of everyday life happened
We can no longer pretend
Work and too many sleepless nights
Raising a child right

No time carved for myself
A million obligations
Sheer resignation
How could she let that happen to herself?

Oh, I used to be so pretty
Now it’s anonymity
Such deformity

All the detergents have ruined my hands
Daily reprimands
I seem to have lost the ability
To take care of myself with dignity
It breaks my heart and my spirit every hour
I show sadness only under the shower
I do not know how to dress
Each morning is now distress

I used to be so pretty
I lost touch with my body
It used to be in such harmony
I lost the identity
That came with being pretty
A sentiment of inferiority
The newfound modesty
Of not being pretty
Is sheer misery

I used to be so pretty
I felt like royalty
I suffer in tranquility
I give excuses blushingly
I feel the loss so acutely
What a tragedy
I used to be so pretty

I can improve a bit hopefully
I can change imploringly
But I am fifty one mournfully
Cannot say it joyfully
I used to be so pretty

Forget sensuality
Now it’s servility
Oh, but I have stability
And sterility
I used to be so pretty

 I have to learn tranquility
But that’s a travesty
Inside there is urgency
A vacancy
Because all too often, in secrecy
I miss being so pretty

I thought I would painlessly
Get back to what I used to be
I used to be so pretty
Now I live oppressively
Inside a savagely
Forgotten body
That used to be so pretty