In the loneliest of corners the flower still blooms
No matter our presences the beauty is true
And starving eyes crave the picture they paint
It's a picture perfect frame and it's fading away
No moment will seem as simple and pure
But time is stealing its will just to live
And the flower will wilt and become what it dreads
A date in this phase and nothing will remain
But a image we shared but never noticed or cared
What it meant or wanted to be
It was a flower and a flower is all it could have been
But to itself it was a reason for life to exist
To itself it was hope and reason to breathe
To itself it was a flower for some lonely eyes
To itself it was admired and lived a full life
