We are the sorrows in other people's stories, like the fallen leaves, drifting in the wind. There are our footprints on the way forward, but it is difficult to see heaven. It's just that the bright white moon reflects a lonely shadow, wandering and struggling, accompanying the autumn wind and falling leaves, where will it go?
Secret love sounds beautiful, it sounds beautiful, and it looks beautiful. You never have to worry about falling out of love. When you smile, I am happy for many days. I remember your words for many years, but only the person involved can understand the ups and downs of doing it. I used to hear people say that people in love do stupid things because of their intelligence, and I was half-convinced, but now I am clearly a stupid living version. I can no longer count how many things I have done since I embarked on the road of no return of secret love, and how many things I have thought that I had never thought of before.
The flowers fall silently, but the years have traces.
