Thousands a blooming blossoms wilted,
Wind spreads the news of one, all her life jilted
Welcome to the pity party, of fake sympathy,
One sung by the universe in grand symphony,

When in truth, had it not fell,
of her name, not one could ever bother to spell
Isn't it a mournful sad oddity masked as humanity,
When all is but vanity?

Of those not attending, they deserve nothing but be scorned,
Oh, how could you have not mourned?
Where is your humanity, your sympathy, your respect?
Well, maybe simply, in a place you could never connect.

What's the point of acting like you care,
When in her life, you never spared a single stare?
What's the point of calling out every single minute,
The name that all her life, was mute?

What's the point of giving victory,
To something that has become history?
What's the point of shedding Fake Tears in this state,
When it's all a moment too late?
When moments later you'd be fangirling oppar with such passion,
Like this oh so genuine deep woeful mourn never happened.

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