I revisit my past,
Only to learn that nothing will last.
In that old home
The halls I still roam.
A trace of something I knew.

The closet of pretend,
Where hours we would spend,
Was big enough for all,
But now appears so small.
A trace of something I knew.

We would all strain,
To reach the light chain,
Now we have to duck,
Or our heads will be struck.
A trace of something I knew.

Inside were treasures,
Childlike pleasures,
For all the thoughts we could conceive,
While playing make believe.
A trace of something I knew.

The scents in the air
Are now unfamiliar,
The days spent there are gone,
With only memories to hold on
Of a trace of something I knew.

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