Flower

Along her vain parade

Along her veins

All of seventeen

Eyes a purple green

Treated like a queen
She was on borrowed self-esteem

She would do her dance

A painful masquerade

Spinning you into her web

Along her vain parade

In her uniform

Studded brass and steel

Kissing napkin lipstick stains
And smearing sincerity

Along her vain parade

Along her veins

Time crept up on her

She's early gray

Her reflection looks concerned
And flowers hit her grave