The breathing dead

I was just cleaning my bookshelf and found my first ever written poem. I wrote it when I was 10 😮. I remember I wrote it when I found a line from someone else's poem very sweet, but didn't like the rest of it, so I rewrote it 😃

The breathing dead [idk why I chose this title, but whatever]

Don't stand by my grave and cry
I am not there, I never died

I am the thousands of winds that blow
I am the silver dust in snow
And the victory on your first try
And a warm hug when you cry

In winters, I am hot water that flows
In dark streets, the only light that glows
To your rusted lock, I am the dazzling key
Dead in real but alive in memories
Feel my presence when no one's around
And see my little happiness you found

Don't stand by my grave and weep
I am not there, I never sleep.