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The negligence of time, can't again wrong Sing a song, memorial I lost youth and those discrete in the wind of the day. Read a poem, memorial I die of love and the stage in the station the departure. Make a wish, the dream I expect future and those who emerge in the dream of the scene. Flow died young, suddenly again in the world between march. It seems that I an old pagoda, are in a rush to send away a number of old people between, between in a hurry, welcome new people, and finally I still or a person in situ wandering, missed, and lost himself. Years of article this pentium river, turbidity but with some heavy, with our story to the unknown far flowing quietly. In the front of these time and chance was wrong. Song and time, I use a gloomy wrong wrote time. I told myself over and over again, "years time, when the enemy but the melting away! Once the future of hope and did not give me any joy, the so-called waiting, but only time for scorn and endless taunt, even once the blue of the sky, also seem so thin cool. Don't know is my lose sight or my too depressed, finally let me use a gloomy wrote such a long chapter. Look back at last to the road, from initial to know nothing ambition and in the end, all bewildered, seems to chance so endlessly took away my those wonderful once, that those company in the people around me, those who pass through the road together, even those who belong to our memories are no longer appear, no longer kind. The youth of the past in my sighs in the loss of drifted off, the university entrance exam at the end of the day, everyone be tired bird nests to rush home, start bubble in the KTV carnival, began to all kinds of all night, not drunk don't return, began to travel... Suddenly I found that I don't know where the dream of a moment died, that alone I suckle trauma was gradually forgotten in the. When coldly ruthless, take away my fingers left of the warm a bit. I took to the youth the dead of disappointment, abandoned sunny in June, use a gloomy pencil writing my youth to the dreary and off. Perhaps we always thought we were thrown out, no hope, but neglecting the side the most beautiful scenery. When we are sighing my youth tragedy pale, don't know is another road has been we locked in the atrium outside, besides sighing with unending legions of the future, and then missed much sunshine? Yes, I can't again wrong. Want to sing a song, will in a song of the time in honor those who discrete in the wind days, and then in the wind day waiting for my next new chapters!
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