POEM for the SOUL.(origin poetry)

We've been getting along since the
moment
we'll remember a whole life long;
just like words go with lips and like water
goes with thirst, we're getting
along.
Frost would blow across the floor,
sneaking,
our teacher sneezed and coughed,
patient.
Ink would melt in our class-room,
dripping.
and the principle would cancel
dictation.
Snow would storm and slash the ground,
roaring,
and the ice in the river bed was
fierce..
Flowers bloomed on the windows,
growing,
as if each was by a bullet
pierced!