A lonely lilac flower sits perched atop a hill
Where various other flowers dance and admire the day
There, it withers alone and its roots plant it still
The lilac twists and turns in the dirt at its own will
But the others turn away to whisper what they have to say
A lonely lilac flower sits perched atop a hill
So the lilac breathes in and lets out a deafening shrill
And the other flowers shrink down to keep themselves at bay
There, it withers alone and its roots plant it still
The lilac longs to be acknowledged like an outdated bill
But like the bill, it is merely tossed away
A lonely lilac flower sits perched atop a hill
And so the lilac crumples until it is deathly ill
Ignored by the others who refuse to even pray
There, it withers alone and its roots plant it still
The lilac makes dying seem like a natural skill
As it is left to rot, descend into dirt, and forced to decay
A lonely lilac flower sits perched atop a hill
There, it withers alone and its roots plant it still
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