Writers 
In a quiet place away from the rain;
In the place where dreams die and come again,
There is an old, wise man who keeps watch,
Under the moon and never ending sky.
He collects what has been lost from the world,
Forgotten tales embossed,
“Gently a lonely letter came down, A child's toy to him,
A once beautiful photo, now tarnished.
He has the keys to unopened doors,
The names of those we knew prior to,
The falsehoods that were not fulfilled,
And tears fell while all were sleeping.
He keeps the smiles of yesterday,
The words we wished we had dared to say,
All the opportunity sacrificed by fear and doubt,
The wee hopes that gradually sunk down.
Some take him dreams to them,
Some carry a troubled mind,
Some look for love that has passed away,
Hopefully our history will still be theirs.
But we must remember, the keeper knows:
But there is nothing finally wiped out yet.
Each defeat marks an invisible mark,
Awaiting in a time and a place.
So when you lose what's most important to you,
Never give up, never be afraid of the ghost.
The Keeper watches o' night,
Saving your memories till they reach the light.
When skies are clear perhaps,
What you're looking for was always close by.