The Flower That Has No Recognition

The one who fades away, left to linger in some corner, whose back pressed against the wall becomes one with the wall itself...
Does anyone keep track of them at all? When they're gone, does anyone shed a tear?

Tell me, where is it written how one must live... what one must never think about... where is that rulebook that everyone has but me?

I am dissolving... slowly a person is becoming 'nothing'... yet no one seems to care... a flower is dying for want of a little sunlight... yet no one even thinks of it as a flower...

Suddenly I find myself longing... for someone to keep me, to ask me to stay, even by mistake... for my absence to be felt somewhere, somehow!