For that promise

In the monsoon wisps and a few petals of lovesickness, the years are like songs but they are old and old for you and me. "The passing years are like poems, but they have given up your and my memories. Keeping loneliness is only for the lovesickness of that year, and only for that time. A beautiful encounter. Once for better happiness, we made the decision this time to let our hearts travel far. Selected articles of emotional stories, I am still willing to be a beacon to illuminate your progress... from the promise that I will stand by lovesickness and suffer, I only wish you happiness, no one can understand the world of fools, and a lonely heart cannot portray happy eyes . I would rather be alone or happy for you. I also long for a warm home, even if it is small and plain. Just because you haven't portrayed the outline of your happiness, I still stick to it, and stick to the responsibility that the return that is not longing is limited to after love. Also only circled that promise.

I remember that day we became you and me, but I still said that if you are unmarried many years later, a harbor will still belong to you, if you are not married, I will still look forward to you looking for your happiness until you wear a white wedding dress . This is the responsibility of love and the ultimate account of that emotion. May you be happy. Once upon a time I secretly looked at you from afar and saw a happy smile on your face. I don’t know if it came from my heart, but I still blessed in my heart and walked away quietly. I’m afraid to interrupt you. That moment of happiness.

Loneliness is not farther than lovesickness, loneliness is comparable to autumn leaves. Jun said: "If you are well, it will be sunny." I will give you only these words, if you are happy, I will be safe. I haven't seen you in front of the door for three thousand, and a few peach blossoms have fallen in the courtyard. The pear blossoms on the branches bring melancholy rain, and the underground grass is full of autumn.

Perhaps in another ten years, what I write will become a short, mundane chore for those parents. But before that, I want to have a dream, a dream that allows me to control freely, a dream that can satisfy any unrealistic fantasy of me, a dream that is fearless.

In this dream, I can sit in the morning glory house and direct the ants to move; I can sit on the back of the eagle and enjoy the beautiful scenery of the river; I can lie in the bubbles of the mermaid and listen to the songs of seagulls; I can hide in the clouds Secretly scratching the tail of the star, blinking angrily

Sorrowing the spring and sad autumn, listening to the rain late at night, reading by the window, looking at the moon and homesickness,... But today, the taste has changed, and the hats of "pretending" and "making" are put on. Compared to literati, we are indeed arty, but at least we still have our own dreams.

The teenager was sitting on the moist ground, holding a book of poems in his hands. The ethereal voice pierced the air after the rain and floated far and far away; a gentleman in a suit and shoes squatted on a stray cat. By his side, use his white hands to gently smooth its hair; a pair of gray-haired old people cuddling with each other, walking tremblingly, they occasionally look at each other, the smile at the corners of their mouths can no longer contain their happiness, their eyes are a lifetime The promise, the happiness of a lifetime.

Outdoors, pick up a fallen leaf, touch its delicate lines, and feel the traces of the vicissitudes of life. Autumn leaves are quiet and beautiful, lying on the palms of her hands, although they are silent, they must be worried. The moments fall, holding your breath, afraid to disturb Ye's elegant time. Bend down, closed his eyes, time seemed to stop, listen with me, and Qiuye talked about its years. Listen! The voice is as gentle as jade.

There are very few leaves on the tree. The autumn wind passed, vacillated, struggling to support, unwilling to fall. The wind gusts passed, and with regret, it fell in front of me. Bend over to pick it up, holding it gently. Under the tree, one place is full of prosperity. It is quiet and quiet. Qiu's mind is so mysterious. When did sadness become the pronoun of autumn? In my memory, autumn is self-willed. Even if he walks stumblingly and out of reach, he must be stubborn and contaminate the prosperity of a place. Patches of autumn leaves are sorrow, and the cool breeze is sorrow. Thoughts want to go with the wind, looking for the end of the journey. The gentle time is melodious...

A moment of silence, autumn that has never been so quiet, is it taking away fallen leaves or longing. Brings you into a sad state of mind, but it is charming, its charm, I can't touch it. Thoughts are helpless in every possible way, looking for a quiet place to start their own journey. The front is confused, no matter what, wait for the autumn leaves to fall and the spring flowers to bloom. Accustomed to the loneliness of a person, I began to search and save my heart. Where can I find a good medicine?

Qiuyu, Qiu Si's tears. Walk in the autumn rain and feel its sad thoughts. Although it is not as good as the hope of the spring rain, the summer rain is prosperous and the winter snow is full, but the frustration and pain caused by the autumn rain cannot be understood in spring, summer and winter. The autumn rain fell faintly and sadly. An autumn rain when worrying adds to the sadness. After the autumn rain baptism, it was bitter and fragrant.