ORDINARY STORIES
My life has passed,
I have seen and heard
the lives of others
while mine was passing by.
I have seen extraordinary stories,
ordinary stories that remain out of reach.
Other people’s lives, wonderful in their simplicity,
pieces of lives I glimpse in their details,
those details no one notices, yet they fill,
stories of lovers devoted to love.
Those small stories that are truly great,
stories of love, the kind I will never have,
love that found its rightful recipients.
Love that never reached my mailbox,
letters others are able to write,
grand stories that fill them,
songs that are sung to them.
Beautiful stories,
still full
of simple love.
Something so simple,
so ordinary,
shared love.
While others sleep,
they do not know how beautifully they dream,
they hold the gift of love,
that miraculous love,
a real miracle
woven
day by day.
Stories
not so ordinary,
stories not meant for everyone,
not all can sail accompanied,
love is not for everyone; for some it simply passed by.
Stories we can only witness in others,
stories so ordinary they become extraordinary.
Stories of what we will never have,
that love that passed me by.
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HISTORIAS CORRIENTES
Ha pasado mi vida,
he visto y oído
la vida de otros,
mientras pasaba la mía.
He visto historias extraordinarias,
historias corrientes inalcanzables.
Vidas ajenas maravillosas en su sencillez,
pedazos de vidas que veo en sus detalles,
esos que nadie se da cuenta y que llenan,
historias de amantes entregados al amor.
Esas pequeñas historias que son grandes,
historias del amor, eso que nunca tendré,
amor que se entregó a sus destinatarios.
Amor que nunca llegó a mi buzón,
cartas que otros pueden escribir,
grandes historias que les llenan,
canciones que les cantan.
Bonitas historias,
que siguen llenas
de amor sencillo.
Algo tan sencillo,
que es corriente,
amor compartido.
Mientras otros duermen,
no saben qué bonito sueñan,
tienen el regalo del amor,
ese amor milagroso,
un milagro real
que se hace
día a día.
Historias
no tan corrientes,
historias que no son para todos,
no todos pueden navegar acompañados,
no es el amor para todos; para algunos pasó de lado.
Historias que otros solo vemos en los demás,
son historias de tan corrientes, extraordinarias.
Historias de lo que no podremos tener,
ese amor que pasó de largo para mí.
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Es una historia que se repite una y mil veces en mi vida.
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Author:
Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS (
Offline) - Published: July 9th, 2026 00:55
- Category: Love
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Ogunisjustice, Tristan Robert Lange

Offline)
Comments2
A beautiful write of love in all its forms that some are lucky enough to experience and others are not. An outside view that tells of others fortune and misfortune in this. Well written
Thank you, sorenbarrett. You captured the essence of what I wanted to express perfectly. Sometimes observing from the outside gives us a unique, bittersweet perspective
I'm so glad my words touched you
My pleasure Carlos
Carlos, it was the image of love never reaching your mailbox that caught me. Such a simple way to express a profound sense of absence. That one stayed with me long after I finished reading. Beautiful work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you so much for your kind and thoughtful words! I really appreciate you taking the time to read my poem and share such a beautiful reflection.
It means a lot to me that it resonated with you
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