BEFORE
The past is like the wind, scattered in my memory
Actually, I don't remember everything so clearly.
With the passage of time
The promises once were gradually distorted.
Sometimes I ask myself, am I still me?
ALWAYS
Every day I write some words in my diary.
Record what happened in the past
It shows more or less sadness and depression.
But after all, those have become the past of youth.
I choose to let it go.
STILL
Learn to love, love is always sweet
After tasting it, I always worry that it will be exaggerated by the bitterness
So you're afraid of losing.
Love is beautiful, always expecting flowers to bloom
But forget, no matter how beautiful flowers can not escape the season
Unwittingly
Some missed scenery has become a defect of time.
There is not only a touch of attachment that passes by.
Unintentional injury
Created a kind of cruelty.
Inadvertently touched, only to find that once I was so stupid.
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