In my eyes, I seem to be saying that you miss me, you miss me, but you are like the warm wind in the spring, which has long since blown away the dust on my heart. The loneliness of my heart spread into my sorrow tonight, it was the rain of tonight, it was also the moon of tonight. The depression in my heart was peeled off by the wind and rain, and only then did I lower my brow and put my heart on it again. Are you still grieving over this rain? Is The end of the world too helpless in my love? In fact, there is a kind of helplessness that is the other kind of weight of acacia, and I don't feel pain at all.
Sometimes, thinking about you quietly, my heart has been bleeding, and I don't know if it is tears or rain or rain?
My great-grandfather was an old character in the village, I was six years old, I didn't have much time to write articles, but I fell in love with the old man's home, how difficult it was for me in that era. The old people here say that I can live in a family of dozens of people, one of which is poor in the mouth of the old people; but I don't know that the poor words of my grandfather's generation are not easy, and every time I go back to see my father, I will think of my grandfather, think of the big section of the old house...
