The Essence Of Who I Am

I’m homesick for a person not a place

Not a time on the clock but a face

He who is infatuated with me wearing red lace

My mind rains tears and my heart slows to a steady pace

I feel empty without him like a vacant flower vase

The memory of him leaving with his green suitcase

If you drew my blood, in every vein you would find his trace

Im homesick for a person not a place

And all my lips long for is his taste

M.A.P

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