My pen says what my heart wants to say,
Writing so vividly what I wish to do, who I wish to be
I never have choices, because they’re all yours to make
My desires and dreams have been pushed aside
I keep writing, every single word is true
I desire to be great, but you’ll never listen
I want to do medicine, but you won’t listen
I want to be a lawyer, but you won’t listen
I want to be a footballer you won’t listen
I want to be a writer, but you won’t listen
I’m forced into this profession which you desire, oh what misery!
The ballpoint is still moving, my emotions keep pouring in.
Page after page, I write down my dreams
Day after day, you keep letting me live yours
I will never be happy doing what I dislike
So why force me to do so, is this life not mine?
I’ve tried countless times to make you understand
But no, you keep pushing me to live the dream you want.
My diary is almost full now, for years I’ve been writing
For years my real self, I’ve been hiding
For years I’ve been crying
For years I’ve been yearning
But will you ever listen?
Money, money, it doesn’t buy happiness
The soul is happy when it does what it enjoys
As I drive on this road, I see many junctions
I wish to make turns but you tell me not to.
So I keep driving, driving for you
I keep living, living for you
I keep smiling to them all, smiling for you
I keep going, going for you.
There’s one question you’ve never asked me
“What do you desire to be?”
But I know you so well, you won’t pay any attention.
So I’ll keep hurting, hurting for myself
Crying, crying for myself
Pitying, pitying myself.
You can make your dreams mine,
But you can’t stop me from fantasizing about my desire, my passion.
I’m running out of ink, so soon I’ll have to end.
All I ever wanted was for you to listen.
My diary says it all, I’ll keep dreaming, dreaming for myself, hoping one day you’ll understand my vision.