I am a colorful kite,
Beautiful,
Everyone is envious,
But you can't fly out of that thin thread in your hand.
I'm tired all day,
I can't get your five fingers back,
Give it a gentle pull.
Do you want to see me torn apart?
The weak body does not fight against fate!
Everyone will die. ......
2. Kites
The higher it is from the ground, the smaller it becomes.
So empty. Once you get rid of the line you're dragging,
It has embarked on its own road of no return.
Look, those winds float when they blow.
A kite that competes for beauty and highlights its true colors.
It fills the sky above us. Much like us.
A frivolous, noisy, messy and untidy life
We are all flying by ourselves.
The light and thin thread of fate was dragged in my own hands.
Its timing, length, direction and strength are fixed.
Play with; play with
Unconsciously, we gradually became
People have it both ways.