The Only Thing He Left Me
Errores en el cálculo de la mirada
The error is to look at yesterday with the eyes of today,
Wanting things to be the same
When you are no longer the same,
As if you could recycle whispers
Or give the same kiss a second time.
The mute do not yell, the deaf do not see the music,
With the same letter that you spell late
You can't spell now,
The love that was, was and will never come back.
This isn't my poem, it was in Spanish but it's the only thing my grandfather left me after he died.
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