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The lilac longs to be acknowledged like an outdated bill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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