Last year, today, in this door, the faces of people and peach blossoms reflected each other's red. The human face has gone nowhere, but the peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze. The longer you are imprisoned, the more you want to be free, to make your own decisions, and to have someone you love. It's often a tragedy
Last year, today, in this door, the faces of people and peach blossoms reflected each other's red. The human face has gone nowhere, but the peach blossoms still smile in the spring breeze. The longer you are imprisoned, the more you want to be free, to make your own decisions, and to have someone you love. It's often a tragedy