Waiting

How many nights, so quietly, silently staring out of the window. I have been waiting for you for a thousand years. Looking against the window, the street lamp was clear and dark. The small trees beside the road changed from luxuriant to dead branches, the wild geese came and went, the thin rain Silk turned into pieces of white snowflakes, and the scenery outside the window was ever-changing, what remains unchanged is my missing. Miss, when the night falls, it is like a soft light music with a little sorrow floating out of my heart, and the gentle breeze murmured leisurely. Looking up at the stars all over the sky, the flashing children like naughty are blinking their eyes. I wonder if you are also looking at the bright blinking star? Do you know whether it is also blinking at you? That is the prelude that I am delivering love to you. Looking at the pedestrians on the road, they went home hurriedly after a busy day, because there was a warm waiting and a happy expectation at home. You see, there is a young couple on the street, holding hands and smiling happily on their faces. They may visit their parents from their parents’ home and return to their home, maybe it is the return of shopping, with full of excitement. Pedestrians gather and disperse, time is more and less, time is fast and time is slow, just like life. Waiting is bitter sweetness, like the drizzle in autumn, lingering and poignant. I remember that we met at that autumn, the dusk with rain and flowers floating. That day, I wore a red coat and a small red umbrella, just like a red rose with dew and rain blooming on the edge of autumn, so pure, so elegant, exuding the breath of youth, warm and pure. You said, it’s so beautiful! You stared blankly and stared, with a hint of excitement and excitement between your eyebrows. You have to leave and go to another city to study. I said, I will be very sad if you leave, and I will miss you very much. You said, so do I. When we meet at dusk, we will give ourselves some time to sit quietly and do nothing, that is, to pour out our thoughts and concerns to you in the distance silently. That autumn evening, I am so sweet, as if the soft rain was the honey pulp given by God, which fell sweet and cool in my mouth, The balmy. Light rain is like light fog, fluttering. We walked silently without any words, as if no one wanted to break the beauty of silence. At this moment, the whole world is quiet and pure, A little bit of sound will also destroy its peace; It seems to be a glittering jade, and a little bit of flaw will also affect its texture. In this way, walking is another dusk. What are you doing? Are you looking up at the blue sky? Are you looking up at the colorful sunset glow on the horizon; are you pouring out your concern to the hovering geese? I am, I walked in the place where we used to meet, still wearing that red coat, holding that little red umbrella, watching the sunset, the bird returning home, and the red glow on the horizon. I think you are still so dull, still so excited, flowing in the brow when I don’t notice there. No, this is an illusion. You didn’t come. The path under my feet was thinking about its mind quietly. The autumn leaves beside the road were reluctant to say goodbye to the blue sky in the breeze. The only thing that didn’t exist was the gentle rain. It must have forgotten the care of the Earth, forget to go back to the embrace of the Earth and immerse in the sentimental Green. The path extends quietly, and the Twilight is coming quietly. The small trees beside the road are swaying quietly with the sadness of being separated from autumn. I am also quietly saying goodbye to the past clear autumn.

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