Apparently who don’t love
Do not break themselves
But brake the world
And go unbroken
But are they happy then?
Apparently who don’t feel
Are happy and don’t love,
But are they happy if they only seem of being loved and self-awarded?
Apparently who don’t notice anything
Until they start to see what’s happening around.
Some broken seem to think that with unbroken
They can find the peace and happiness and love
But it is not, nothing but artificial can grow up in a bolar stuff;
I’m one broken piece and would rather say that I’m proud of it
But it happened beyond my will
And only those broken matter to me now
‘Cause they are real, genuine, and gentle in the mind
Sorptive and sorrowful,
Brisk when needed when they feel like
And so kind, and so passionate, and so dark as bright –
The gamut of emotions;
And I love it and do not want to repair
Neither them nor me
And hope that some day they will be called again
Not broken, not failures, not unknown
But the most loving people used to live
In this now broken world.