201312091025Those who lost the past
Open the page, the memory of the youth is like a flower, in the heart, like the first, everything is so clear, and everything is so vague. Time like water, the more beautiful it can only become a memory, youth day never see, yesterday, gone, memories, but only in the heart.
Years, the wind, my time, hand to salvage those past, palm extended a tinge of warmth. Whisper, mood spread, such as a warm gauze, the heart gently hold, the wind dust, round tender feelings, the leaching heart, aftertaste, leaving a plume of interwoven emotion and the heart. Years such as water, light, still cling to the warmth, so, I was in that deep love everywhere, with their hands gently in the heart, will be the past.
All the time, living in the years running, always trying to find a place in the world, hope, bright, to downplay the mottled marks. Hope, the flowers at the time, to find a warm, but also to find a strong, to warm the cold season.
The passing years, flowing in the time of voice, arouse my heart I miss. Some things, some people, come and go, go again, and time is how also did not return. Looking back on the past, once the shadow was gone, and wet, but in the eyes of the initial circulation.
When I look back, the original, time was so short. The storm of life, and, to go and go, left, how many memories in our heart. Along the way, how much scenery have been passed, the number of events into a mirage, when the days of cool wind in my side, I know, those away from our time, has been in the scenes of the remnants of the picture, painted in the end Dream beauty pro.
Sometimes, want to retain a memory of silk, but was a lot of no time to organize thoughts ran aground, so, let slip in the eyes, and unable to go to retain. Perhaps, time is old, the heart also weak, the past, present, future, only a dream life.
Know, that day can not go back, only in the clear day, twist a nostalgic warm, in the busy schedule, with a miss, the love light continuation.
Years of wind, off season cool thin, saying good-bye to the young dream. And I still hold this time, keep a person's mind. Choose a quiet, keep an indifferent, a person's time, a person walked. Gradually understand, in the life, a lot of things at will, not force, not sedulous care. Learn to enjoy the solitude, to a person to go its own way.
A season of beautiful, so by the time submerged in the changing seasons. Perhaps, it is cold, the heart also follow cold. A lot of things, a lot of people, can not help heart to caprice. Though, have thousands and thousands of words, I can only use it to explain.
After the noisy, all return to calm, just think, in a scene of the bleak, or miss the original scenery. Perhaps, people will live in the memory itself, even if we can't go back to the original, but there is a miss in the heart, will warm those once.
Life, this is a process, a process of water, through, pass by, read, read, also can only be stored in the mind, a quiet attitude, in the time of recollection.
In life, many past have become the past, many sceneries have been passed in yesterday. Even though, the eye is too much not to reveal, or only as seasonal cycle from the verdant. Pick a time gap silhouette, want to search for those residual marks, and a curtain hung bleak branches, never come back to the past.