The Fleeting Years Are Filled with Sadness

Some memories are always moist, with too many evaporated tears inside them, making the air infected with astringency and bitterness. Sometimes when I recall, the bitter taste can melt the sugar in my mouth, and I chew the pain of memories with tears. The sweet feeling has been replaced by the bitter taste. It's moldy and stinky. The fleeting time is doomed to meet again with sadness. Slipping from the fingers, maybe it is an old bookmark in the book, you and me under the plaid umbrella. Youth passes each other, and the remnants left behind are called memories.