```html Mr. E | The Poetry Archive

Ephemera

Mr. E

There's dozens of hands on my back now
They're all pushing me
Pushing me to be great
They're all behind me now
But you were ahead

You're the end
And I can see you now
I'm reaching out my hand
But you won't take it

You know I can make it on my own
But I didn't reach out my hand for help

I never got to say goodbye to you
I wish I did, I wish I could've
Now, I must leave you behind
By definition: a senior English teacher
But to my heart?
To my soul?
The man that pushed me to be great

This is for the good of the many
Push them to be great, as I was
Because I know you can't take them by the hand
But I can, and I will

All you have to do is all that you do
This poem is dedicated to you, Mr. E
Never fade away
I will do the same