She had that passive presence
Like the ticking sound of a clock
Sometimes you might notice her
Most often at times you do not
Like a wallflower, she is
You notice her on the wall
But then you get use to her
And don't care if she's there at all
As if she is just forgettable
You can't help it if you forget
She is use to it, it's understandable
It still hurts her nonetheless