We are a kaleidoscope of broken things,
Angels with clipped wings;
Dyslexic writers, fallen knights.
We are an army of crushed mights.
We are the troubled therapist;
An untuned symphony,
But we burn with our melancholic glory.
We are the comedian that finds it hard to smile,
We are the dreamers in exile;
A shy actor, an ugly butterfly.
We are the colorblind painter splashing the night sky.
We are the Beethovens and Van Goghs;
The brightest and the most magnificent are we,
Because we burn and burn forever in our melancholic glory
-and we can't be tamed.