Whose tomb did he stop and stand at?
Tears welling up in eyes
where did he come from
Leaning the flowers you carried lightly next to that person's tombstone
I see clearly
It was a bouquet of pale, deep white roses
Just like his past
After a long time
He stopped crying and knelt down on his knees
Kissing the unheard name
The wind blew away his past
But I can't take away those entanglements
········
I stand in front of the tomb
Tears pouring down
Beside whose grave
Leaning lightly on a bouquet of white roses
and who placed it
the beginning of the story
No one ever remembers the name of the so-called old friend
A gust of wind blew
The blow wrinkled the lake water and wrinkled the weeping grass.
It also wrinkles my memories
The vows of the past, the fragments of the past
Appearing like a white horse through a gap
Suddenly, there was a wisp of wind in the distance
A white flower floats and falls
Whose past has the wind blown away?
Only a simple bouquet of flowers is left
In this nameless tomb
Who knows, some years ago
The owner of the tomb is like him
Holding a bouquet of scarlet roses
Put it in front of the one you love deeply
He prayed that if there was a chance
Will that person meet him again in his dream?
Intent: A slightly sentimental youth literature.