The Broken Children

A little bit of truth that I've learnt in life.

Broken Children

We are the outcasts, the freaks and the geeks
The social fringers that aren’t allowed into
The Beautiful People’s playgrounds.
We are the Broken Children that life kicked,
Kicked hard enough to shake loose something inside.

We drift through our social lives like phantoms
In the face of our Beautiful brethren.
The brightness of their unblemished lives
Driving us away.

When we find another Broken Child,
When we discover someone we can relate to,
Someone who accepts us for us
We grasp their friendship with a miser’s grip.

We are the broken, we are the unwanted
But we are the ones who have worked it out,
The secret that would ruin our Beautiful brethren’s party.
We are all Broken Children

We acknowledge our wounds,
Either by choice or by force,
Rather than shy away from them
Pretending they aren’t happening to us.