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The children are grown, They have their own Christmas. It's the natural order To leave the hearth, And start. No more journeys home, They're there. You see, I'm not alone, I recall all we had When we were home. The exuberant joy and anticipation On your faces on Christmas morn. I had it all. I have it all, The past, our presence, From first, to our last.
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Dec 24, 2017
Dec 24, 2017 at 9:51 PM UTC
Last Christmas
The children are grown, They have their own Christmas. It's the natural order To leave the hearth, And start. No more journeys home, They're there. You see, I'm not alone, I recall all we had When we were home. The exuberant joy and anticipation On your faces on Christmas morn. I had it all. I have it all, The past, our presence, From first, to our last.
francie-lynch
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Dec 24, 2017
Dec 24, 2017 at 9:51 PM UTC
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