Trudging through the filth of this world,
Trying to find some beauty out of this poison,
In every family there is one who is different,
One who cannot seem to grasp hold of reality,
One who wishes to escape the pain of their existence,
One who decides to end this all.
Whispers or mumblings of words unheard,
A ghost of her former self she stands there,
By a mausoleum she picks a flower,
One single withering lily,
One rotting corpse,
One lonely girl.
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