The flowers in the garden withered

In the places that are dark, dank and cold

The flowers that had so much potential

Died young and never got to grow old

Like the thoughts and the innocence within us

Like somehow we feel ourselves unjust

As if somehow we’re not good enough

That’s similar to our hopes and dreams

The flowers wilt before showing their colours

Just like both you as well as me

If we give up on our dreams

And then on we cannot hope to see a day

That we love and grow in because its sunny.