Another one from the archives, this one written some time after the death of my grandfather which would put me at about 16 at the time i think.  

When the sky is dark, and the wind is cold,

And the rain comes down, fold on fold,

Remember us.  The silent ones

In the numbness of the Earths tight hold.

You cannot see us, or hear us talk,

But right beside you we will walk.

We...

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