I don't know why they should write a love, I do not know what is love, just suddenly want to writeTeny Wu.
Is full of green asphalt gravel road, blowing wind.
Step by step, I picked up his memories, the memory of that so-called time.
When I was very small, only unsuspectingly shadow. Early winter snow, the sun rises, ablation of the one point one point. The occasional flash a smile innocent mind, like a ray of sunshine in the soft, warm body. But I know, that is not loveSamsung Galaxy Note 3 Defender.
Willow, withered and green. Snow in winter, has become the summer wind, filled with every corner of the bottom of my heart. It is raining cats and dogs. night, tinkling of rain, the umbrella in the rain, pounding heart. I began to feel different, not the so-called power, not the so-called romantic, just Beckoning, only Beckoning.
For love, so unexpectedCCIBA.
But I, also have what? A care? A love? No, nothing. A gust of wind blowing, then why have dissipated, even the memory, also beginning to crumble. Finally, only silently on the autumn leaves, a person silently smelling the faint fragrance. However, first, always beautiful.
Winter to spring, summer and autumn came, inadvertently, maple trees and a few rings.
Childish has not dissipated, forehead has not mature. When love comes once again, I still could not hold it, fingers like an hourglass, watched every little bit falling sand. A gust of wind blowing, raise the hand full of sand, game blind. So in the pure eyes, gradually blurred, fuzzy people have to cry.
Although the time, finally let everything again clear: she has changed, and I, also changed.
In love, they once again out of reach. I gazed at the sky, looked at the ground, feet, heavy set foot on my way.
Suddenly, the sky dropped a drop of rain, the rain through the crystal memories.