There is a bridge in Sioux City, which relieves the coldness of the heart
Time has been stranded in the old photo album that is as young as flowers. Paper cranes are tied in his piano room. Can't the old days be restored with the scattered paper fragments in the sky?
A boy in a white shirt and blue plaid, do you remember that year when "it was cool and quiet, the snow turned into water, and the flowers were not late in summer?"
Returning to the place where we met again, I muttered again, "There is a bridge in Su City, Ji and Su Qing are proud."
Walking to the alley of Nian, passing by the department store and supermarket where I was a child, time flies by and the scenery along the way blurs my eyes.
In the end, it is the love, the friendship or the family affection that moistens your eyes.
The flowers in full bloom in that season are entangled with the appearance of time, and gradually lose their color with the sunshine...