No hiciste ni hay nada malo en ti
Por ello, este pequeño poema
Fui gris en algún momento
No necesariamente ayer,
Padecí el sufrimiento al saber que no ibas a volver
Mis días se volvieron opacos, sin vida ni color
Lo siento tanto por haberte entregado mi corazón
Hoy me miro al espejo y pienso lo tonta que fui,
Al querer desconsoladamente que regresaras a mi
Perdón si te lo di todo en espera de algo más
Solamente quería que de verdad me llegaras
Amar, sin compasión te marchaste sin decirme adiós
Y hoy lamento el día que te pedí perdón
Aún recuerdo los sollozos que derrame a tus pies
Sin pena ni gloria me miraste con una mirada de hiel,
Que me daño hasta el punto de no saber qué hacer.
Perfecto mentiroso eres mi señor,
Días cálidos eran los que me prometían tu amor
Y aquí estoy mal herida intentando recuperar de lo queda de mí,
Marchita flor de invierno que no sabe renacer a pesar de que
Sus frutos quieren florecer.
Luchare hasta el día en que pueda sonreír
Sin ningún remordimiento pueda pensar en ti.
Many times or some times in life we go through a breakup in which the emotional burden falls on our sadness, feeling that the relationship came to end because of our fault, but as you move forward you realize that you gave everything and you only hurt yourself.
You did not do and there is nothing wrong with you.
Por ello, este pequeño poema.
I was gray at some point
Not necessarily yesterday,
I suffered the pain of knowing that you weren't coming back.
My days became dull, lifeless and colorless
I'm so sorry for giving you my heart
Today I look in the mirror and think what a fool I was,
When I wanted disconsolately for you to come back to me
I'm sorry if I gave it all to you in expectation of something else.
I only wanted you to really reach me
To love, without compassion you left without saying goodbye to me
And today I regret the day I asked you for forgiveness
I still remember the sobs I shed at your feet
Without pity or glory you looked at me with a look of gall,
That hurt me to the point of not knowing what to do
Perfect liar you are my lord,
Warm days were the ones that promised me your love
And here I am badly wounded trying to recover what's left of me,
Withered winter flower that doesn't know how to be reborn even though
Its fruits want to bloom.
I'll fight until the day I can smile
Without any remorse I can think of you.