When I have youth, I can never find a suitable word to describe it, and I never know how to truly cherish it.
It is not until youth is gone that we discover that youth is tragic.
All the longing, beauty, or bitterness, in the end, passed away so lightly. It turned out that youth was never close.
Here, there are shadows of you and me, and stories of you and me. Youth fades away, leaving only elegy.
Conception: