December 13: On My Last Show

The end of any run is bittersweet,
To bid a cast, creative team, and crew,
The memories that live in voice and feet,
Tradition, set, and theatre fond adieu

Makes one recall the joy it was to bring
To life a story that’s withstood the years;
That even when through weeping one must sing,
One understands how precious are the tears.

And now that we must go our separate ways,
Though new and thrilling paths we all will roam,
As long as memory lasts, that backwards gaze,
In Notre Dame we’ll always find a home.

And as the bells are struck and banners furled,
We’re grateful to have been atop the world.

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