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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
What are you obsessed with?
To obsess.. be constantly talking or thinking about something.
I think we all have different passions and interests, but we must all be "obsessed" with something.
For me, it is music. I am in three bands and play music all the time. When I'm not playing music, I am singing along to the radio.
It is more than just a hobby to me, and I really enjoy it.
What about you? What are you obsessed with?