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It is my time to go and face my Great Maker.
My days are at an end so comes the undertaker.
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I'm not sure what is next. I'm just a little worried.
I have done the best I could but I was too often hurried.
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An antiquer's life is hard, lift and load, fix and clean
Then face the customer's snarl as they deride, insult, demean.
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But my struggle is now over, my back will hurt no more
A new world is ahead of me as I face my Savior's door.
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What would be the verdict as I view the streets of gold
Had I lived a life that was worthy to be included in the fold?
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I looked around for answers and then I began to see
Some strangers were approaching with their arms outstretched to me.
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The first was a dear old lady who met me with embrace
"Thank you, Dear, for caring about that broken vase"
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It came from my dear father upon my wedding day
You saved it from the trash truck to be cherished along the way.
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And then there was another who grabbed and shook my hand. |
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