Without a Trace
How I need to vegetate
Not to care ‘bout being late
Nor about painting my face
So I won’t be a disgrace
How I need to quiet lie
And let others bustle by
I must slow the hands of time
Clean away the filthy grime
Oh, how much I need to….BE
And to get in touch with ME
Not that person in control
But the one who has a soul
How I need to just be still
‘Fore I lie beneath some hill
I need to slow down the pace
And to hide without a trace.
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2012
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