Floating clouds left the sky a green shade, the Miss World in August point print print spot, into the brain. Portraits of the city appeared in their minds and printed. Let Miss up leaves, petals while not yet open, slow growth. Slowly you walked into the flowers, the scent of flowers, float into your heart is not the taste of flowers.

In the rain I try to paint you. Paint your eyes and your saddest eyes. Flashing, looking far away. In the distance, there is your hometown. Where has your childhood, has your growth, has your joy, also has your sadness. I keep your watch on an ordinary sheet of white paper, but the white paper is unusual because of your image. When you returned to your hometown, I became a tourist in my hometown. On the slates of moss road ---

Sunset, hanging a ray of red light on the mountain, with pen and paper depicting your appearance, why not adorn your dimples when smiling?. The distance between you and the youth left behind, with the sunset blurred in the dark. We are used to recalling the memory of youth; to use debauchery to show the madness; to hold the memorial dream with embarrassment. When memories flash past, the present time, the rest is not memories, but memories of sadness, stranded on the beach without the sea. Along with the wind, accompanied by rain, with you and me, drifted in the direction of no coordinates.

It is said that the sea has a broad chest, which can hold all rivers and absorb rivers. But the rivers are sweet and light. The water of the sea is dry, bitter and salty. Who knows, the salty taste is all the fish left in tears, tell their own suffering. Stay in that river, and leave a lover and friend.

Breathing the same air, two people, there is a distant distance. Distance has not changed you and me, but you and I have changed our lives, followed by different people, listening to different things, in the corner of the city. Quiet thoughts, quiet life, the same is that you and I are guarding a peaceful life, the loss of the same good.

Cross road neon lights, or three colors. Not too much to stop, nor waved too early. The best thing in life is to keep this. Just like the best of us, we can't always wait in our memories. You know, we can't find the lost youth, not to put across in the memories of youth.