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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
Hi, everyone! Firstly, I want to say sorry if this isn't the pest place for this topic. I'm still new. :/
I have a game for you: I will write a part of a sentence and 2nd one will continues it, 3rd one will continues the 2nd one part and so on, until it become a story.
Once upon a time, in a hot summer day...