“Change is not a gate we pass through; it is the definition of life.” – Millie Florence, Beyond Mulberry Glen
Dear future me
I wonder who you’ll be
by the time you read this
If you’ll have gotten your wish
And if you’re finally free
Do you still write and dream and dance
Or cry from Loch Lomond and other old songs
When you look in the mirror do you see
That little line of crooked teeth?
Do you still love the summer birds?
Do you still fear the future untold?
How much have you changed
How much is the same?
Do you still love listening
to the rain?
How are you, are you doing okay?
Are you still a dreamer, even in the day?
Dear future me,
I wonder when and where you’ll see
This little ol’ poem written by me
Perhaps you’re standing by the sea
With the gulls and the wind, all so free.
Or maybe you’re on a train somewhere
Somewhere new, somewhere fair
Maybe you’re at home instead
Surrounded by books you’ve loved and read.
You know me
I don’t know you
Truth be told
That’s kinda strange
But either way, future me,
This is a poem
From thirteen-year-old me
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