I
I
Waiting for the eraser,
I've spent life as a pencil.
I wrote so much,
I am still writing.
No one erased a thing,
No one spent herself
for me.
I'll end on my own,
A slave to time I'll become.
Waiting for the eraser,
I've spent life as a pencil.
I wrote so much,
I am still writing.
No one erased a thing,
No one spent herself
for me.
I'll end on my own,
A slave to time I'll become.