Every day for six years you've been going to the graveyard where your mother was burried.

one day you walk down to the graveyard and you see a boy with a journal and pen in his hand. He was leaning against a tree

he looked lonely, you walk over to your mother's grave and you lay flowers beside her gravestone, that's when a few pages with poems on them that he had ripped out, blown over beside you

"I- um I'm so sorry about that" he stuttered and quickly gathered his pages