1, "This is everything"
Not all trees were broken by the storm; Not all seeds can't find the soil to take root;
Not all true feelings are lost in the desert of people's hearts, and not all dreams are willing to be broken. No, not everything, just like you said!
Not all flames only burn themselves without illuminating others; Not all the stars only indicate the night and don't report the dawn;
Not all songs, skip ears? Didn't leave it in my heart. No, not everything is like you said!
Not all appeals went unanswered; Not all losses can't be compensated; Not all abyss is doomed; Not all destruction covers the weak;
Not all hearts? You can step on the mud under your feet; Not all the consequences are tears and blood stains, not smiles. All the present breeds the future, and all the future grows in yesterday. Hope and fight for him, please put it all on your shoulders.
2. Wildflowers on the Hillside?
Wildflowers are in bloom and flowers are everywhere.
Like the lips of spring
Face the sky. A teenager is singing.
Who can hear the vague lyrics clearly?
Wild flowers on the hillside, this small, broken color.
Like fragments of time.
Flowing through the cracks in spring, this heartbreaking beauty is even a little far away.
Wild flowers in the sun, wild flowers in the rain, on this mountain, die without regrets.
Who saw this scene?
If he doesn't like roaming,
If his pain is getting lighter and lighter, who can not be ashamed of the wild flowers on this hillside?
The wind is blowing. The sound of the wind and the sun are intertwined. Who is not whipped by the whip of all things?
The past is gone forever, and I will continue to travel on the earth.
Who knows the secret of wild flowers? When they are about to disappear, how can my tears come out of my eyes? I don't know if I can
3. Believe in the future
When cobwebs mercilessly sealed my stove, when the smoke of ashes sighed the sorrow of poverty.
I still stubbornly spread the ashes of disappointment and wrote with beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future.
When my purple grapes become dewdrops in late autumn, when my flowers cling to other people's feelings.
I still stubbornly wrote on the desolate land with frosted vines: Believe in the future.
I want to push away the waves running towards the horizon with my fingers, and I want to hold the sea of the sun with my palm.
The warm and beautiful pen swaying in the morning light wrote with the child's pen: Believe in the future.
I firmly believe in the future because I believe in the vision of people in the future. She has eyelashes to brush away the dust of history, and her pupils to see through the years.
Whether people send us emotional tears and deep sympathy, or give us contemptuous smiles and bitter ridicule of our rotting bodies, those lost sorrows and failures.