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 | | Message 1 of 1 in Discussion |
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 Do not stand by my grave and weep For I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am diamonds that glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning hush I am the swift uplifting rush of butterflies in joyous flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die. Unknown ©Lindsay Archer | |
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