Her poetry

She used to tell me at 11:11 To make a wish. She used to wake me up with kisses. And she used to write me poetry. I used to make a wish. I used to wake up sweetly. I used to read poetry. But now at 11:11 She's never home. And by the time I wake She's already gone. And her poetry isn't like it used to be. I always forget to wish. I wake up missing her. And now I'm the one who writes poetry about her.