We can't see the road of life, and we can't reach the end of the snow. In that cold winter with flying snowflakes, you and I met here and wrote the story of our youth, our childhood sweethearts. We don't know each other now, and if we forget the ending of the story in the past, we might as well use the present as the beginning of a new poem.
I like you, like the spring breeze in March. Like the summer in June, like the autumn rain in September. The spring breeze is silent. The summer is silent, the autumn rain is silent. Maybe I don't have the courage to speak to you. Even if I say "I love you." But I am willing to give everything for you, even if it means mountains of swords and seas of fire.
I like you. You are the bright summer warm spring breeze and the gentle autumn rain that silently nourish my little grass. You never say anything. But you will always be watching me from behind. Although your care is silent, you will always be by my side.
From Jiangnan to Hebei, from the past until now, we met in Jiangcheng. We came to a club called "Qiu Zhen" to start a youth love comedy that was unique to us, and let each other write stories into poems that sprouted in the falling snowflakes of that year.
Purpose: I want to write a story about reunion and find the sincerity in the reunion.