Misfits

In a world of straight lines, we’re the crooked seams,

Misfits and the dreamers, weaving our dreams.

With hearts that don’t fit in conventional molds,

We wear our quirks like a badge of pride,

With laughter like a thunder and voices like fire,

We break through the silence, fueled by desire.

We find our own tribe in the chaos we make,

Together we flourish, in colors so bright,

So here’s to the outcasts, the bold and the brave,

For in our wild hearts, the world we will save.