MISUNDERSTANDING
At times, far too many times,
my writings belong to another world,
all too personal, unrepeatable.
Particular phenomena of the heart,
impossible to echo in other souls,
combustible, rare outbursts.
This love that is mine alone,
unimaginable to others,
wounds that belong to me.
A unique life,
among thousands,
millions,
unique.
Distant
meanings,
intangible
to others,
different
ways
of seeing.
Letters of oneself,
projected,
distorted,
re-examined,
new readings
of moments,
of stories.
Illegible,
at times,
to others.
----------
INCOMPRENSION
Incomprensión.
A veces, demasiadas veces,
mis escritos son de otro mundo,
demasiado personales, irrepetibles.
Fenómenos del corazón particulares,
imposible repetición en otras almas,
incombustibles estallidos raros.
Ese amor que solo es mío,
inimaginable en otros,
heridas que son mías.
Una vida única,
entre miles,
millones,
único.
Lejanos
sentidos,
intangibles
en otros,
distintas
maneras
de ver.
Letras de uno,
proyectadas,
distorsionadas,
reexaminadas,
nuevas lecturas
de momentos,
de historias.
Ilegibles,
a veces,
en otros.
---
Yo planté, mi obra y si desaparece por falta de riego, eso no depende de mis nubes...
-
Author:
Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS (
Offline) - Published: July 5th, 2026 04:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
There are parts of us that can not be communicated in words to other. We are all individuals different from the millions of others out there all unique individuals. Well written my friend
Carlos, this really resonated with me. I think every writer wonders at times whether anyone truly sees what was on the page as it existed in the heart. You captured that feeling beautifully, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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