We are a bouquet of broken flowers.
The unwanted seeds, no one expected to grow,
Cast on stony soil.
A song written on the unread parchment.
The Music of a lost Generation, no one wanted to hear.
And yet here we are.
Standing barefoot in fields of shattered glass
With our heads held high.
In full bloom and full voice,
Too beautiful to be ignored.
We are a bouquet of broken flowers.
