If my pen would only write beautiful things,
People would think I'm happy.
It's true, I am happy, but I like people to know
there's a part of me that cannot forget such a horrible past.
If you're pen could only write beautiful things,
People would think you're happy,
Except for me, cause I saw you crying so many times
To words you write cannot mean something real.
If everyone's pen could only write beautiful things,
The world would be filled with happiness,
And lies... especially lies.
Cause everybody would be blinded by the ifs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem