This will be a new tomorrow,
Infinite spring scenery awaits us.
It is a period of ambitious young people.
Study hard,
Swim in the sea of books.
Take advantage of the good times,
As you can see,
Dawn is just ahead.
The poetry of youth is sweet and full of the joy of flower season.
The poetry of youth is sour, including growing pains.
Poetry of youth is bitter and has experienced various setbacks.
The poetry of youth is pungent, a passion for life and a vision for the future.
Fourteen-year-old sky, the innocent and soft sunshine is slowly fading, and the mature and fierce sunshine quietly permeates our hearts. We are free in the flower season, and only after experiencing temptation and baptism will we have a clearer understanding. Teenagers, we are like waiting for the sunshine in the flower season. In the storm, the seedlings moistened by rain and tears seem to understand that there is joy in suffering. Every time there is a new breakthrough, it is accompanied by laughter and tears. Thank God for letting us see the truth!
Fourteen-year-old sky, those childish little hands wrote mature poems, and that simple miss lingered. We don't have much life experience, which makes our teachers and parents thrilling again and again, and every time God attaches to our loveliness, it saves the day. When we were teenagers, our hearts were complex and pure, so were every growing boy and girl. Living quietly with a kind feeling, completely ignoring the secular world, it seems that everything in the world has nothing to do with us, thank God for making us happy!
Fourteen-year-old sky, that innocent smile reveals a sincere heart, and that fiery heart burns the flame of hope. Youth has not failed. No one wants to give up as long as there is hope. We tell the world with sincerity that tomorrow will be wonderful because of us, and we render every corner of the world with sincerity. As teenagers, all we have in mind is struggle. For themselves and others, not only students, teachers and parents fail every exam at the same time, but they can't help asking: Is this my grade? Frustration again and again, awakening again and again, after being scolded, I secretly said: who said I can't, see you next time. Thank God for letting us paint a beautiful life with our hands!