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A memoir of my youth

The same staircase, the same grey carpeted floor,
The same long red benches, the same pulpit,
The same faces, but unfamiliar, just a few.

The right-sided benches, a living memory,
Of my youth with my friends, in our young, naive teens.
We would gather round, on the top right side,
Exchanging breath mints, whispering quietly.

Though the same place, but such an unfamiliarly familiar place.
More than 10 years, never changed,
Still the same interpreter, still the same musicians, same preacher,
No change.

Wish I could come back and stay again,
But even though I once knew you, you are now a stranger I wish I knew.
Not ungrateful, not forgetful,
My childhood and teens was built here.

Always thankful for all that's been,
But afraid I am, it's time to leave,
Thank you for all you've done for me.
I wish you well, I wish you the best.

Thank you and good bye, I pray you find rest.


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