Whose shoes these are I think I know.
Their feet have not returned yet, though.
With blankets scattered there and here,
The mess will only grow and grow.
On Thursdays, we all shout “We’re queer!”,
And share our news for friends to hear.
Between the jokes and rainbow cake,
We build our friendships all the year.
With laughs that make our shoulders shake,
And challenges for us to take,
A rug to catch up on our sleep;
There’s comfort here I cannot fake.
Though leaving here will make me weep,
I have new knowledge that runs deep,
And all these mem’ries I will keep,
And all these mem’ries I will keep.