Rose Prose: Roses Bloom. I still remember the first time I saw roses, it was in the early morning when I was young. At that time, I played hide-and-seek with my friends and stumbled into a rose garden by mistake. A bunch of waist-high roses unfolded before my eyes. Delicate petals, beautiful and delicate stamens, green branches and leaves? Everything, everything is so intoxicating to me. They are like charming and fragile princesses in first-class parties, elegant and noble, elegant and elegant, emitting fascinating fragrance. Just as I leaned close to a bunch of roses and kissed their fragrance, suddenly, my calf was mercilessly cut by that sharp thorn. I let out a cry of pain and looked at my calf with pity. Inadvertently, I caught a glimpse of the bloody roses on the branches and leaves. Under the sunshine, the petals shine with charming luster, which makes the delicate and charming roses look more noble and elegant and breathtaking. Under the exquisite appearance, it is a sharp and ruthless sword. Perhaps, for people, this is the most difficult regret of rose blasphemy. However, for Ross, this is her best and last warning. A warning to people, a warning to everything. ? You can appreciate me and praise me. But don't come near me If you want to hurt me, I will stab you mercilessly with that spike. ?
In fact, so do women. A passionate and hot woman is like a gorgeous red rose. A dignified and elegant woman is like a pure white rose. They are completely different, but they have the same crazy beauty. However, people are always greedy and have endless desires. Just like Zhang Ailing said? Maybe every man has had two such women, two less. Married a red rose, over time, the red has become a touch of mosquito blood on the wall, and the white is still the moonlight in front of the window;
Married a white rose, the white is the glutinous rice on the clothes, and the red is the Zhu Shazhi in my heart. ? Perhaps this is human nature, or maybe it is acquired. People are always confused by mysterious beauty, forgetting the ordinary beauty around them, and forgetting the plain is true. But it is undeniable that there is always a rose garden in anyone's heart, which is full of different, delicate and inviolable roses.
Prose on Rose: Like all thoughts about the past, the funeral of Rose was caused by a rain. They say rain is a broken bead, a teardrop of regret, and a string that pulls emotions? And I stubbornly believe? Then, this is a perfect baptism! ? Notes before the text of a book or after the title of an article.
Flowers bloom under the cherry trees, swallows return from afar, songs ring in the distance, floating outside the peacock city, away from the secular dust, with my innocent age, faint floral youth and white love. Dewdrops and butterflies are flying everywhere on the green grass. I still remember the year when I caught happiness with you. The cherry trees in the mountains and plains dance with the wind, and the happiness that falls is our innocence. At that time, we all naively thought that friendship could last forever, but the fact was brutally denied.
It seems that we have just met and left each other. The hourglass of time flows quietly with the fine sand it can't catch. After passing by countless times, we finally met. The tall Cinnamomum camphora stands in the fiery red sun, silently counting our memories. In that long-forgotten summer, at that once most familiar intersection, at that place that carries our friendship.
Friendship is too good, no matter how you cherish it, you will regret it when you look back. Friendship is so bad that you desperately want to avoid it, but it is always by your side, and when you want to cherish it, it is gone.
Over the years, our friendship has made me sad, and our fantasies have made me hesitate. Friendship is destined to be a dream, just like a gust of wind. When you wake up, you have to face the pain of parting. Hiding in a certain time, I missed the palm print for a while; Hiding somewhere, missing someone standing on the road, on the road, makes me worry?
Friendship, bitterness and joy, tears and laughter blend together, and a person grows into friendship and becomes complicated. What did we lose when we grew up? Is it just friendship? And sincerity is like a crystal ball, once broken, it will never be complete?
The so-called friend is just another way of saying things that have changed. Yes, we have all appeared in each other's lives, but we are just passing by in a hurry. I know I'm not a good recorder, but I like to look back on the way I came, turn around, stop, and then move forward vigorously. Because I understand, many things that we thought we would never forget for a lifetime are gradually forgotten by us in the days when we never forget them. One is always on a strange road, watching strange scenery and listening to strange songs. Then one day, you will find that you have really forgotten what you tried to forget.
Rose's funeral buried our memories?
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