Miss-Understood Bright lights, visible particles of moisture floating in the air, fog, followed by screams, and music. Her concert, expected, wanted, and acclaimed. The "Diva" was the diamond, ready to shine. Applause pursued her entrance, in a mist of colors, races, voices, and smells. Her Heels, pointing fiercely the way, marching like the queen that she was. Her dresses were precious pieces of art, resting on a body full of grace and make up. Her hair changed like the seasons ... sometimes blond, seldom dark, at times long, at intervals short. Moving in a delicate manner, alike a blooming flower, ready to bloom. Inspiring in the ladies, the classy sex appeal, contrasting to the sordid "reggae-ton". The show was full of spells, the charm was her voice. Her dancers were the soldiers that move in her favor. The "Diva" waved her hands, and thanked all who came to support. Minutes later, in her dressing room, a metamorphosis change, taking off the fancy dress, was nothing more than a girl, trapped in the body of a boy. Maria Elisa Lenke Robenolt