15 Candles

This girl,
This very lonely girl.

It was her fifteenth birthday,
And all she wanted was fifteen Candles,
And a "Happy Birthday" song,
A hug wouldn't have gone unappreciated.

But she didn't get her fifteen candles,
She didn't get her "Happy Birthday",
She didn't get her hug.

All she got,
Was a short drop and a sudden stop,
From her friend the rafters.

Only then did she get her candles,
And her song,
And her hug.

From those who had forgotten,
From those who had ignored,
From all those whom she once adored.

She got the love,
She got the day,
Even though it went to waste.

The thoughts,
The life,
They should've been hers,
She who was as perfect as a silken purse.

She was herself,
She was the best,
She was one and only compared to the rest.

But nobody seemed to think so,
Nobody seemed to care,
And that's why she died with dust in her hair.

No one really thought much of it,
One less mouth to feed,
And one more room to spare
They would've gladly helped her with the deed.

She died with hatred in her heart,
And loneliness to her name.

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It's not much, hardly even rhymes, but get over it.

x_x