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Youthful memories Stories

youthful memories

I pray you, do not trample on my dreams.   Though you may only see this mortal shell, A frail thing of flesh; this outward reality,   Is of no greater substance than the air,  Masking the real truth that lies within  From the unperceptive gaze of the world. Though my years have passed the Biblical span And I am well advanced on the dread path  That leads to senility and decay, And though my limbs are clothed in sagging fl...