Posted by magicalmysticalteacher
Text me a message before I am gone,
Before waving shadows cover my lawn.
Candles and peaches, not rats in a bowl—
Text me of these things to cheer up my soul.
Don’t text about fences shredded by fate,
Just stick to the truth, let’s have a clean slate.
The truth being this, and always will be:
I’m made for you, dear, and you’re made for me.
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher