Often accepted, but never first choice
Always ignored for someone's louder voice
I finally realise, this is my lot:
Regarded as warm, I will never be 'hot'.
I had some dreams a long time ago.
Where did they vanish to? I'd like to know.
I've tried to help and I've done it for free
But where are the people who'll do it for me?

My talent's not great, I know that, at last
And the dreams that I cherished have faded so fast.
So when I am dead - you'll forget in a trice,
On my headstone, the legend " Here's Lil, she was 'nice',
But she couldn't be special or brilliant or cool
So she died, as she lived, a romantic old fool.
Not cut out for winning when put to the test
Accepting her fate was to be second-best."
 



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