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There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
November by Walter de la Mare
how did you meet your best friend ?
it started by fighting :smiley:
the first time i met him we got into a fight two of us, we were about 12 years old, we were riding our bike, non of us know the other, i started following him around for a few minutes until he got upset and started shouting, i didn't talk much, i went directly and hit him and we started fight till his sister who were older by far came and beats both of us :lol: