Once upon a time, we were also such teenagers.
Wearing a clean white shirt, carrying a heavy and huge drawing board, he walked the long and distant road with his head down.
Passing through the mountains full of hibiscus trees in full bloom, the years of my youth are passing by, not a single word is heard, not a fleeting image can be seen.
I had no choice but to hide the unspeakable hidden hurts in my youth, and only remembered the first smile and smile.
Time and I made a hasty escape, and we knew the ending tacitly.
Once upon a time, we also had such a dream.
Outline a gorgeous picture, even if there is only one river, a distant mountain, or just a touch of light blue, as clear as the sky or as bright as the blue sea.
Or carve out pure words, even if there is only one word, one sentence, or one unfinished thought, like the twists and turns of the road, or the sadness that lies across it.
When I look up and lie down drunk, there is your scenery.
Occasionally, a light gray bird flies across the sky, flapping its wings vigorously and fluttering its lonely silhouette.
Break free from the shackles of the decaying narrow streets and fly proudly into the blue sky.
You and I, between stopping and looking back, between staying and smiling, between the changing years and the short life,
As a bystander, I was abandoned by this period of time outside of time,
Smiling sadly, witnessing the struggles of survivors.
Conception: