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May 2013
A sea of stones hosting life of their own,
Put on display to honor the lives that are gone.
Hundreds of stories locked away in the archives,
Overlooked on a weekday afternoon.

A melody of silent ballads, still played by those who are left.
And written in the pages of everlasting text.

The wind still sings for those who are forgotten,
Who still walk among the notes of the song.
Forever, until all is said and done.
Billy Gray
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