A poem praising the age of eighteen

It is not easy to believe in heaven and earth.

It's amazing to miss a child.

There will be a strong wind in the sky today

The years are like running water.

Decathlon night in the bridal chamber

August, when it's raining.

Add acorns when you are old.

The Forest and the End of the Phoenix Age

Memorial 18 years old

18 wind is exciting.

/kloc-the sky of 0/8 years old is broad and blue.

The wheel of fate began to spin.

The young man crossed a threshold.

Blowing in the wind yesterday.

The future is full of happiness.

Do not stop, do not return.

Let time remember everything and let time dilute everything.

Life on the road

We repeatedly lose and gain feelings of happiness and sadness.

Whose indifference is it, whose sweet words are it?

Will disappear

Stay away from us.

Holding the palm of 18 years old is warm.

Life is intertwined with the four seasons. Childhood is the spring of flowers and dreams, prime of life is the summer of enthusiasm and tears, middle age is the lonely and fruitful autumn, and old age is the beautiful winter when the sun sets.

Time flies, time flies. It erodes the traces of innocence on our faces and fades the light of ignorance in our eyes. We grew up in tongyin and walked into the sky of 18 years old.

18 years old is a continuation of spring and a prelude to summer. It is a beautiful poem, a short song.

18 years old is a golden age, a romantic dream, a meaningful word and a mellow dance.

This is 18 years old, poetic and dreamy.

/kloc-at the age of 0/8, we are like a swallow that just left the nest. We are full of curiosity about the world and always care about everything. The world opened the door to us, but we learned to close the window of our hearts.

Our hearts began to have places where the sun could not shine, and our hearts began to breed troubles. Who says teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow? We also have troubles, some light and some heavy.

The road to fame and fortune is difficult and bumpy, and there is no confidant when the song is broken, and there is no home to return to.

It is hard to find a beauty in a sad dream, and it is easy to be childlike.

This is 18 years old, a poem and a dream.