You are not happy picking my calls
And not smiling replying my texts at all...
But you didn't tell me what I did wrong that I did wrong
And I don't know what I did wrong
Yet I worry to say sorry for what I don't know I did wrong.
If only I can know what I did wrong
Then I'll know where I did wrong
And what I did wrong that I did wrong
And know I should worry to say sorry for what I did wrong
And not worry to say sorry for the thing I didn't do wrong
And so do you no more wrong for the thing I did you wrong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very good about having to know what it is he did wrong- universal question, almost Biblical!