Time is like a song and a melodious piano. We revel in it, but we never return it. It reminds us of our long memories and nostalgia for childhood, as if we were back to that happy childhood. ...
What impressed me the most was probably the little square! When I was a child, I used to go there every night to play with a bunch of children and run around. We gave a string of silvery laughter. We sat on the steps watching the moon and stars, standing by the fountain enjoying the cool water drops, naive smiles and a childish remark, which made us the happiest people. Now, when we come to that square again, the excitement of the past has become the silence of today. We are still together, but the topic of conversation has changed, the game we play has changed, and we are very happy, but we feel that we have lost something.
In the deep memory, the street lamp next to the kindergarten is the main place where we play, and the street lamp there should be the brightest! Sandbags were thrown on the roof again and again, laughter spread to the distance again and again, and shouts came and went. Let's put aside the boredom of learning, let go of our mood and enjoy ourselves! The immature voices of "Then" and "Ding" echoed in my ears again, which made me recall. ...
That small garden also recorded my wonderful childhood. In spring, flowers are in full bloom and full of vitality, which makes people want to stay; In summer, cicadas and birds sing there, which is poetic and picturesque; In autumn, the leaves there are like carpets and paintings; In winter, there are firecrackers and fireworks. When you enter the bushes, you will find all kinds of small animals, including hedgehogs, sparrows, cats, magpies and stray dogs. I heard that squirrels have been found. It is a good place for our children to play hide-and-seek and for the elderly to have fun. I was deeply moved by the fresh bamboo shoots under the bamboo forest, the ancient grape trellis in the promenade, the fragrant roses among the flowers, and everything. ...
Time is like a song, childhood is like a song, from laughter to flowers, I found the memory of my childhood, the children's song I once liked gradually emerged, the familiar tune, the constant love. ...
"Two tigers, two tigers, run, run ..."
Chapter 2: Time is like a song.
I left quietly, just as I came gently. Time flies like a meteor across the sky.
Time is like running water to the market. "How did the water of the Yellow River flow out of heaven and into the ocean, and never return?" Time is like a river that never returns, and it can only be shamed away in the years.
Meeting or yesterday, parting is just around the corner. Looking back on the past days, I can't count how much joy I left on campus, but now I can't help feeling a burst of disappointment.
Recite Li Shutong's "Farewell": "A glass of turbid water will sprinkle all the joy, and bid farewell to Meng Han tonight." "Life is a rare gathering, but there are only many separations." Time cannot stay at a certain moment. It can only be a flash in the pan in the long history and life journey. Maybe a candlelight night outing is a smart plan.
There is no banquet that never ends, and now there are countless farewells. No matter how reluctant you are, you can't move the trip with a heart of stone.
A vibrant campus, the most unforgettable thing is the teacher's eyes; The kindest thing is the teacher's eyes; Half has the majesty of the father, half has the kindness of the mother, and combines the love of parents, which is deeply reflected in the mind; Half has the enthusiasm of the sun, half has the tenderness of the moon, which brings together the brilliance of the sun and the moon and illuminates the road to growth.
Walking on the campus path, stepping on the stairs of the classroom, leaving sweet memories in my heart. Under the banyan tree, cicadas are humming desperately, butterflies are dancing heartily and flowers are blooming brilliantly. A good campus landscape, coupled with the diligent study of students and the patient explanation of teachers, is vivid. The whole campus is full of the warmth of teachers and students.
Time began nervously, and a thousand words could not be said. Let's leave our dreams to the night, our tears to the sea and our hopes to the future.
Parting is only a moment, so leave a thousand words of blessing in your heart and pray.
Fifteen years old, a period of hope. Cherish the present and look to the future. Don't be a latecomer, be an ideal eagle.
Years are like songs, so let the dreams of youth play like songs.
Chapter 3: Time is like a song.
Time is like a song, and it will be the eighth grade in a blink of an eye. In retrospect, I always feel that time flies. Motherly love accompanied me to grow up, and always accompanied me in my life. However, by the eighth grade, I had a sense of loss that I had never felt before. Maybe I grew up, maybe I was nervous about my study, but I said from my heart, "I'm afraid the main reason is that I live alone now and can't see my mother." Although I go home every week, compared with before, the time at home now is so insignificant! I miss you, mother, and your stern and gentle face; I miss you, mom, and your meticulous maternal love; I love you, mom. I love you. I don't hesitate to save money to make my living conditions better.
Looking back on maternal love, you always look so great. Even if you have a vulnerable side. But in front of me, you always don't let me see your fragile side. Protect me from the wind and rain with your fragile and great body. Others say that a father's love is like a mountain, so a mother's love is like clear water. There is no mountain height or mountain height, but some are gentle and meticulous. Others say that the father loves the sky, so maternal love is like the earth, providing nutrition for "flowers" like us, but I have no complaints. Some students don't understand and can't feel our mother's love. However, if you think about it carefully, since mom brought us into this world, how can she not bear to care about us! Although she sometimes looks cold, she is also good for us! She just wants to exercise us and make us an independent child. Why not?
Thought of here, my tears can't help falling. I want to ask what is great in the world, and that is maternal love, which grows with us. I think I'm not young now, and I understand that. Time goes by like a song, the seventh grade study has ended, and now I am in the eighth grade, but maternal love will never change, and he will always accompany us.
Chapter 4: Time is like a song.
Unconsciously, three years have come to an end, and the laughter of the past has added a bit of nostalgia. Today's struggle time is unforgettable. In this way, we have worked together and we are leaving. With tears of parting and longing for the future, we planted the seeds that determine our future.
Everyone has his own courage and desire in his heart. Strive for one's goals. Constantly compete and make progress.
In these hard years, a lot has happened and I have learned a lot.
I am about to enter high school, and my heart seems to be more persistent and more uneasy. I still miss these three years, still a little.
Sometimes I often sigh, time is like water, I can't go back, and the flow is so fast. Time flies like an arrow, it can't be taken back, and it flies so strongly. Sometimes upset, sometimes anxious. But in the face of this sunny smile, I still can't help but turn my head and smile.
Behind the gaunt face, I don't know how much bitterness and sadness I have paid. It seems that a strong body has many scars hit by setbacks.
In the past three years, we have been burdened with the expectations and struggles of our families.
In the past three years, we have combined the high hopes and efforts of teachers.
In the past three years, we have shouldered our own hopes and persisted.
Over the past three years, we have shouldered the hope and progress of the country.
Sometimes I want to ask years, why did you leave in such a hurry? Can you show me your face? Even if it is a short stay, I will be satisfied.
Facing the smiling face that is about to part, my heart is filled with emotion. The unknown tomorrow needs us to use today to create, and the remembrance of yesterday needs us to make up for it with tomorrow. Now I really realize that these three years' efforts were all for this critical moment.
Slowly, we are moving towards adult hypocrisy, and now we always feel that time flies. This is the footsteps of the years, which come in a hurry and go quietly. Why is this? How to answer these heartfelt questions?
Chapter 5: Time is like a song.
Silent years, such as mercury sliding down your fingertips. So gentle, like the night retreating into dusk, quietly taking away silky memories. Open your hands, you can't see the trace of time passing, and the harmonious rhythm rings in your ears. Time used to be a song.
"Ding-dong, Ding-dong ..." Song-like years resounded through the night like a clear spring. Yesterday's autumn wind and autumn rain filled my mind instantly. I have insomnia every night. What should I do? Laugh to death. "The world is big, where is my place?" Years, years, stop the rhythm of your playing and give me a moment to think deeply, so that I can fully understand whether to choose life or let life dominate us and look back. Year after year, every moment you walked, every step I walked, never left a trace.
It's like singing and vibrating the eardrum, so it's thought-provoking, but there's no trace to be found. What I remember is only the melody that shocks my soul.
"After the storm, there is always sunshine, and behind the dark clouds, there is always clear sky ..." Time echoes in the blue sky like a song, just like waking up the dreamer. The vague memories of the past disappeared in an instant. Bathed in the breeze, how to sail and sail in every short day. Smile and be confident. Even though the years are like songs, I still feel the notes beating. Years, years, let me surpass myself and pursue my dreams. In the cold winter, looking at the Dream Palace, year after year, every second you beat, every footprint I step out, is shining with warm sunshine.
It's like a melody, echoing in my ears. So tempting and considerate, gently brushed my cheek. I feel that the years are refreshing my memory, and that wonderful song is always provoking.
There is a feeling that it is wonderful; There is a tacit understanding, called tacit understanding; There is a yearning, called endless; There is a feeling that the years are like songs.
Time is like a song, stirring my heart!
That's a song.
That's a soft song.
It was a song-like time.