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| 2013/12/18 11:44:17瀏覽326｜回應0｜推薦0 | |
Sundowners, not a heartbroken man. Out of the window, quietly, like a philosopher to be in a brown studyman t shirt. The bare tree trunks, watched the fading afterglow. Tracing of sparrow hills homing, dignified and solemn. At this time, who also don't know, what I think. Sundowners, only acacia. In the glow of the birds longing, deep tunnel sky fly. A cool breeze, beat the dust. All dream. Everything is gone quietly, quietly coming, the world because of full of pain, but also filled with joy tr90 ageloc. Ah! People who are far away! My bones of Acacia, with anxious eyes, spread to distant. Across the high mountains and lofty hills, fly to your side. In a world of ice and snow, only the hearts are warmgarage storage systems. Distant land every morning and evening. Spring fragrance, the power of love, the warmth of my heart. Sometimes, I often think, what is life? My life seems to be an outsider. Sometimes, I really want to fly back to your side. Wish you every good nights. However, I can't. Work, work, like a rope and dragged me, I shall not be free. Sundowners. I can not independently. |
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| ( 時事評論｜國際 ) |
