I like the way the wind floats through the window,
And tickles my hair...

Open the window,
And steal the sky...

Falling over,
But not even feeling the ground...

Wasting paper,
Wasting tears...

Picture dreams,
In front of open eyes...

Trying not to sound cliche,
But what else am I supposed to say...

I try to put the blame on someone else,
Because to carry this guilt would be unbearable...

I still dream about you,
I confess...

I see you,
And you have everything...

I prefer to write sad poems,
Because they make me feel...

Quisiera no tener la razon
Por una pura vez en la vida...

Lonely now,
As I always was...