In the alternation of past and future, we are old and dying. Later, I finally discovered that dusk is the most beautiful bloom of time. The days are always like fine sand flowing through the fingertips, slipping quietly inadvertently. The sorrows and sorrows of the past have gently passed away under the wash of the passing years, while the joy and smiles left behind will remain fresh in the depths of memory for a long time. The older I get, the more I miss it, and I miss those passing years. It was great to meet you when the flowers were blooming on the street, but it was a pity that it was yesterday's blue sky when we met again; in the sluggish time, meeting you was the joy of a flower blooming, but mixed with the atmosphere of sadness.
All the time we forget in a hurry will come back to us in the form of another memory. I miss the clouds in the past, which were clean and without a trace of blemishes, and the sky in the past, which was blue and clear without any stain, mixed with the seasons when warm breezes floated by. I miss my innocent self in the past, the naughty kid and the person I was back then. The beauty of the past can only be left to memories, and we can never go back to the past. The past is gone and can never come back. In this winter afternoon, your eyes pass through the estranged love, as if a familiar voice awakens thousands of years of memories, the beauty of the past, the scenes of the past are stranded, unfamiliar, helpless, and helpless.
Walking on the road of life, we laugh at the flowers blooming and falling outside the window, the leaves fall withered, and watch the clouds roll and relax in the sky, the wind stops and the wind rises. The beautiful time reflects the clearest shadow in the clouds and is permanently imprinted in the mind. How can I find the lost years back? Your smile is still lingering in my memory. As the years go by, a stream of clear spring flows out, and a burst of fragrance flows out; only the pale face remains, waiting helplessly; in the quicksand of memories, no one can see his figure, no one can hear his footsteps, everything is going on in the passage, and erupting in the passage.
Looking back on the past, the days were filled with colorful lights and shadows, and within the barrier of memory, the once heart-beating voices gradually faded away. You are the unfinished song of my life. I can't sing the ending but it's hard to let go. Maybe my heart will miss you often, thinking about the happy times when I can see you every day, and I will still think of the news about you in the place where you are not around. We are all separated in the wind of time. Looking back, we can't see the traces of being together, even though we were together so hard. Memories are the beauty of life. They symbolize the sweet streams of life that are gone in a hurry, the tranquility of always sleeping soundly, and the secrets in the heart.
Purpose: Inspiring stories