Write the feelings, experiences and feelings of the festival in the form of poetry.

There is always a little bit of prosperity in my dream. Pink flowers fall and hit lonely people's shoulders, but I don't know that there is a big lake like Changhong, which wets my clothes and the beautiful moments that continue intermittently in my memory are swallowed up. Yes, good times always slip away quietly, even if only the laughter of street children is left in the end, there is no denying that there will be a better day.