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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1439959
A little poem about change, etc.
There was a church on the hill,
For many years it stood,
The old Clock face gazed over the valley,
First fields,
Then cottages,
Then city.

The old church walls saw many faces,
The floor saw many feet,
From the rich to the poor,
The old to the young,
The church had seen it all.

Through many a storm,
wind, rain, snow, flood,
War, Invasion, reformation,
Bombings and more,
The Old Church stood.

It saw many a person,
Many a year,
Welcomed life, Birth,
And said goodbye to plenty.

Then one day, they came,
with clipboards and hard hats and plans.
Now the old church stands no more.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1439959-The-Church-On-The-Hill