“Please Will, will you read it out loud?” asked Max, in a whine. He had only waited two minutes as his friend to skimmed over the small, crinkled paper but it seemed like ten to him.
“Hold on, I’m almost done,” the other boy said quietly without turning his head up from the hardly legible cursive.
“I found it! You should let me read it first!” Max grumbled and sat on the curb, crossing his arms over his knees.
William and Max had only been friends for a couple of years, and even in that time they had not always been so friendly. But, when they did get along they had, without a doubt, the most fantastic adventures as little boys can. Max was a year younger than Will, who was eight, but his outgoing character easily overrode the quiet older boy’s placidity. Although their childhood, like anyone’s if it is happy, took them through many different stages and changing favourites, they always seemed to get along well enough to remain best friends. Will finally stopped,
“You can’t even read!” he said, slightly annoyed by Max’s impatience but still not sounding too harsh, “Here, I’ll read it out for you,” and the boy stammered out the following verse:
“In dark and pain, I say it’s true
Paragon silently waits for you
Time has still not dulled her boldness
Darkness still not paled her goldness
The perfect wife for any male
Though much strife she does entail
Her golden locks are locked away
Deep in Earth, forever stay
Her iron heart will not be cracked
Nor can ever her place be tracked
Southernmost of all the North,
Her rich, cold cries do call you forth.”
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