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![]() Visit Squidge's Memorial Page We are not there, We do not sleep. We are a thousand winds that blow; We are the diamond glints on snow. We are the sunlight on ripened grain; We are the gentle Autumn's rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, We are the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. We are the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at our graves and cry. We are not there; We did not die. -Anon |
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times since 23rd March 1999
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