She is a woman and I’m a girl.
She is clever, and I look naïve to people.
She is pride and I don’t know the meaning of the word.
I did not learn it.
She is happy and I’m always in trouble.
She makes love and I’m a body of eggs.
She gives him all and I’m selfish or afraid.
Giving nothing is impossible.
She is gone, and I came.
She will come back, and I will be gone.
Because I cannot win against the passion of love.
Because she knows how it is.
Her love is blind.
How many times, hours, days, months before she relieves me?
It’s like Odysseus, Calypso and Penelope.
Since the beginning, it is the same story.
To my ex-love I cannot forgive.