Italian version

It seems that life is a constant “substitute”.

Replace love with hate,

replace a less suitable friend with a more suitable one.

Replace those who do not accept you 100%, with those who do.

Replace uncomfortable situations,

with those in which, instead, you look great,

at ease.

One person with another,

one feeling with another,

because, many things,

many people,

they make it hate

to be the master of it.

Not everyone manages to stay,

even if they could.

But I didn’t want “everyone”,

but only those few that I could love.

It seems that it takes a feeling to counter another,

with the same power,

thus, as a presence.

Indeed, sometimes with much more force,

to be able to replace that

and who we have missed.

There is almost a need to replace,

to be able to forget.

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