I was a restless child, dissatisfied with my own small space, and couldn't wait to stick my head out to see the colorful world outside. Then I was shocked by those cruel rules and those bloody storms, and then I had to bear it with the fragile heart of a child. Maybe this is the price of my premature birth. I have been fighting alone all the time, so tired, so tired.
In fact, watching the tide rise and fall, the flowers bloom and fade, I sigh that the years are passing by, only the willow leaves are still thick.