Youth, precipitated with tears

Youth, precipitated with tears

Youth is really thin, just like the dandelion floating in the sky. When the wind blows, it disappears.

-- Question

It took us four years to finally fall in love with the land that once complained countless times, but we had to leave at the last moment. Every year, many students drag their luggage out of the campus gate, wondering why there are so many tears and feelings that we will not understand until the pointer reaches us:

Time is really just a sign made of paper. It can be easily broken through. When your ears are disturbed by words like graduation, you should understand, in fact, it is not far from you.

With the warm sunshine, I watched the scenery for four years and recalled the beautiful and sweet language in the wind. After being washed by rain, I became more colorful. I couldn't help but smile and my mouth rose slightly, I seem to have seen myself walking deep in the peach forest of my youth, silently encountering the Dark lights.

Four years of college is like a very meaningful but unfinished novel. After we finish the beginning and climax happily, we finally finish the ending. When we were old, we stood in the sun and sat in the sun, reading this book from the university, and found that it was a very hasty book.

In the face of the departure of one or more friends around me, I am in a bad mood. At the end of the last parting, I really don't know what to say. When I leave, I hug and say goodbye to each other, everyone vowed to believe that there is a past and a future. The past has been generated under our feet. But does the future really exist.

On that day, we sat in front of the wine table and pushed a cup for another. The teacher gave a lecture and shared the test tomorrow. The wonderful fragments are constantly restored in front of our eyes. Everyone holds memories with a smile and tears in silence, so that they were drunk for thousands of years.

Maybe many years later, we will be able to think back to the campus we used to walk together and the teenagers we used to crush when the sunset fell, I can still remember the lessons I had forgotten after escaping from the class.

Time is like a machine that diluted and organized the years that have passed. What remains behind is a happy story about the baptism of youth and a dream of a new year.

Every time I hear the younger siblings around me discuss some legends that have happened to us, every time I see them repeat some stories that I don't know how many times we have repeated, every time I think of the hard work of those students who are studying at night and performing morning exercises, I find that I have lost the capital to complain about college life. I also find that I like memories.

Time has taken away a lot of things around us and taught us a lot of truth. In the middle of the process, the loss and pick-up of the back and forth have become a pleasant surprise, and the loss has become a memory. Four years of time, filled with unforgettable notes, remember that the sky at that time is very blue, you are very bright in the sun, then the wind is very light, like a very young you.

Graduation is like a colorful pen, which draws a trace on every person who leaves the ivory tower, adding a warm color to his life, so as not to be too cold by the sadness of parting.

This world is a world of war and chaos. When graduation takes away the ignorant years, we still need to go on the road silently, with the curse made by reality in one hand, and write down the words of nowhere to talk, and start a new life. The University is a very warm story. After many years, when the corners of our dreams are flattened by reality, we can still hold a very indifferent mood, waiting for the warm story to grow older.

Youth is a bumpy road, extending from far and near to us. No one knows where it will go, so we are always walking in a visible direction, it leaves a vague figure and a deep impression.

Staring at the old days, the wind blowing leaves lost sound, walking footprints on campus gradually stranded, floating in the air in the restless dream, the love flowing in the hearts of young people is like a fire, and there is still a piece of unsaid confession, all in the tears of water left in the back of yesterday.

In the years of youth, there were laughter, tears, sighs, nostalgia, and the soil of time when the moss on our feet spread, we all grew up. In retrospect, even if the sky of youth is full of discrete themes, I am always glad to have met each other and leave such a strong and wonderful webpage in our lives.

After many years, we sat in a warm hut and watched the beautiful TV. Yao's city enjoyed the beautiful freshness, so that we could truly understand the meaning of youth. The fragments that happen between young men and women are just an episode of youth, and those who hurt us and those who love us are witness to our growth in youth, it is also the significance of our youth.

Youth is like a trip. It doesn't care about the destination, but about the scenery along the road and the mood of watching the scenery.

Youth is like a glass. When we break through it and look at our bodies with flesh and blood, there are only sad tears left on us.

Youth, precipitated with tears