Like a wilting flower lives,
Drooping day by day,
Trying to lift, trying to smile,
With nothing more to say…
The fragrance had left its body
The charm was next to go,
The poise and youth betrayed its soul,
Vibrant colors no more.
Watching people passing by,
Not a glance they dared to throw,
Thinking back that once nearby,
It was the center show.
For happiness or despair,
For love or console,
It’s the flowers who get torn from its roots,
Left to wilt and die alone.
