Time is like a song, the third day of composing music.

Some people say that time is like a knife, and the knife makes people old; Some people say that time is like wine, which warms people's hearts ... but I want to say that time is like a song. Below, I sorted out the composition of grade three, welcome to check it!

The first one: time flies like a song, but the lake leaves ripples; This song is seamless, but the thoughts leave memories. The quicksand of the years slipped from your fingers and carved an eternal song on the disk of life.

The memory of childhood will always stay in the world of dolls. The fun of dancing with dolls and bears filled the whole childhood. I don't remember how many dolls were chopped into one-eyed, but I remember that there will always be their company, waiting for the swallow to fly in the spring in a flowered skirt. Childhood memories are as cheerful as children's songs, and innocent children's voices sing innocent songs.

Year after year, swallows fly around, carrying small schoolbags. I don't remember whether I would add 1 to 1 at that time, but I still remember "Xiao Yaoer, carrying a schoolbag to school ...". In the song, the schoolbag becomes heavy, instead of running and jumping to school, it walks with steady steps, and the figure of children's songs gradually fades away, and the ear is "Flowers once told me how to walk ...". This is a sweet dream song, and my heart is full of hope. Growing up in campus folk songs, youth began to sprout.

The farther the road goes, the deeper the traces of years are drawn, and I am going to change. I will not look at the sky naively and ask whose eyes are shining, but listen to the melancholy blues and wait for a meter of sunshine through the sky. I don't care what the lyrics are explaining, but I will mobilize my feelings with the tune. In the melancholy, thinking about life may also be maturing.

The sunset at dusk may not be old enough to look at the sunset and remember, but I still can't help looking at the red horizon and imagining ancient music and songs accompanied by stumbling steps.

The disc of the years is still engraved. On the phonograph, the disc of the years is spinning, the songs of memories are singing, touching the imprint of the years, and listening to the ancient songs of the years continue to walk. Years are like songs, and songs are like years.

Chapter 2: Time is like a song, lying lazily on a bench, enjoying the rare peace after this year, facing the cool wind, sighing in the hazy misty rain, taking a deep breath, feeling relaxed and safe, mixed with a trace of sadness and loneliness, but actually overflowing my heart. If time is a beautiful song, then each of us is a cheerful employee, with different moods and different eyes, spending every day to the fullest and composing a beautiful movement of the song of youth.

In fact, each of us thanks God, because of him, we are getting closer and closer unconsciously, thanks to fate, thanks to fate, thanks to him, thanks to our acquaintance, thanks to trust, because of him, we know each other, everyone has different bodies, but everyone has a sincere heart.

Flowers bloom and fall, and the edges gather and disperse. Because of a feeling in my heart, because of that inexplicable traction, we move forward silently together, with fiery ideals and amazing wisdom; We used unique dance steps, leaving traces of years and confusing stories. Stories are always accompanied by melody. We lost a self in the past years and found a self again. Silent nights always ring with innocent smiles. At night, it is the easiest to derive stories. Rain always comes quietly, and soft footsteps become fresh and lingering in every corner of the room. The agile posture in front of the window, the beads of sweat under the lamp, and the pen tip sliding quietly on the paper are not too deep or too shallow marks, but they are the most precious friendship in my heart and can last forever. Our days together are numbered. After a lot of laughter, there has always been a nest of peace of mind in our hearts. Although immature, it can't be broken. We just stayed on a long scroll with exquisite handwriting. The songs of the years are precious with the quietly passing youth. Left a deep and shallow gully in our hearts, neither increasing nor decreasing, neither living nor dying.

The furthest distance in the world is no longer the artistic conception experienced by Tagore. Time shortens the distance between great hearts, but time also quietly pulls away from the heartless heart. Time will always pass and friendship will fluctuate at will. However, I hope everyone will pay attention to this year's song, cover it from time to time, be bitter, sad and have more bright smiles.

Chapter 3: Time is like a song. I put the past flat in that time machine called time, and put it there, mixed with too much helplessness. Suddenly like a dream, erase those old days when the clock swings yellow. It's time for a heavy rain in June to crush everything and then quietly enter my junior high school life.

"Time is killing a pig knife, and the knife pokes people old."

It should be a seemingly funny sentence, but it tells some traces of the years from the bottom of my heart for no reason. Yes! Time is like a song, and its chord law makes us put down a lot of things and face ourselves in the future completely, but how long can a song be? Immersed in it, it is nothing more than a moment of waving your fingers and a word in your ear.

Time flies, but I think I'm a thirteen-year-old teenager, and the weak lamb has grown into "King Kong Barbie" in a blink of an eye in this year.

Time goes by on its own, just like being deliberately lengthened by the heat. Those boring cicadas sang along the groove full of love and being loved, and went on the right track.

After entering junior high school life, everything has changed dramatically. The burden on the shoulders has suddenly increased a lot, which many people can't describe. It is far from enough to write such vital notes.

At the beginning of the first grade. There is only one word that can represent my profound experience, and that is fatigue.

How tired are you? It is an unspeakable "morbid". The heart wants something but can't do anything about it. Every day's life is like being surrounded by boring pi, living in such a complicated study life, being dragged along by things like pi that are never repeated and irregular, having no clue and struggling.

Gradually, gradually, day after day, I tried to adapt and feel completely, and gradually adapted to this growth in the laughter of my classmates.

Countless yesterdays and reverse master tapes have made me grow a lot at once. I am no longer the child who can roll around, get rid of those funny picture books, get rid of those colorful dresses, and I am no longer myself.

Grow up. It's not that pants are getting shorter and shorter and clothes are getting smaller and smaller, but that the heart grows up with dreams.

Time is like a song, all the time has told me.

Growth is closely related to junior high school life. Thanks to the years, with its beautiful melody, I wrote a crucial stroke for every teenager.

Chapter 4: Time is like a song. I leave gently, just as I come gently. Time flies like a meteor across the sky.

Time is like running water to the market. "How the water of the Yellow River flows out of heaven and into the ocean is gone forever. "Time is like a river that is gone forever, and it can only be wasted in the years.

Meeting was yesterday, leaving is just around the corner. Looking back on the past days, I can't count how much joy I left on campus, but now I can't help feeling disappointed.

Recite Li Shutong's "Farewell": "A glass of turbid water will sprinkle all the joy, and say goodbye to Meng Han tonight." "Life is once in a blue moon, but only a lot of separation." Time can't stay at a certain moment, but it can only be a flash in the pan in the long history and life journey. Maybe a candlelight night outing is a smart plan.

There is no banquet that never ends, and now there are countless farewells. No matter how reluctant you are, you can't push this trip with a heart of stone.

The most unforgettable thing about a vibrant campus is the teacher's eyes; The kindest thing is the teacher's eyes; Half has the majesty of father and half has the kindness of mother, which combines the love of parents and is deeply reflected in my mind; Half has the enthusiasm of the sun, half has the tenderness of the moon, which brings together the brilliance of the sun and the moon and illuminates the road to growth.

Take a walk on the campus path and step on the stairs of the classroom, leaving sweet memories in your heart. Under the banyan tree, cicadas are humming desperately, butterflies are flying freely and flowers are blooming brilliantly. A good campus landscape, coupled with the diligent study of students and the patient explanation of teachers, will be vivid. The whole campus is full of the warmth of teachers and students.

Time began nervously, and a thousand words could not be said. Let's leave our dreams to the night, our tears to the sea and our hopes to the future.

Parting is only a moment, please leave a thousand words of blessing in your heart and pray.

Fifteen years old, a period of hope. Cherish the present and look to the future. Don't be a latecomer, be an eagle with ideals.

Time is like a song, let the dream of youth play like a song.

Chapter 5: Time is like a song. After school, I take a walk in the street.

Suddenly, the wind blew hard and dark clouds were on people's heads. The small trees on the road made a "crash" sound, as if to say, "What's the matter?" At this time, the pouring rain fell on people.

I quickly ran to the eaves of a supermarket to shelter from the rain. At this time, an aunt came running with a child in her arms, and the child fell asleep in her arms. I looked at the child carefully. I found him wrapped in a raincoat, and the rain flowed from the raincoat to my aunt, but she didn't know.

At this time, a flash of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by rumbling thunder. The child in the aunt's arms was awakened and began to cry. Aunt patted the child with her hand and said softly, "Good boy, don't cry. Mom will take you to the hospital later. " Say that finish, and put his raincoat on the child.

The rain outside has not decreased, but has become heavier. The small trees greedily sucked the rain, and the road was washed clean. On both sides of the road, the rain merged into a small river and flowed forward happily.

Aunt looked at the rain outside and her face was helpless and anxious. She must be in a hurry because she can't take the child to the hospital in time. A gust of wind blew and I couldn't help shivering. I looked at my aunt doubtfully. Isn't she cold? My clothes are all wet. I saw her wrap the child tightly with a raincoat. She looked at the child and the rain outside, and walked into the rain without hesitation.

Years are like songs, and this aunt wrote the melody of love, which still has a lingering charm in my heart. Let me know that everything in the world can fade, but love will never. It always has green leaves, beautiful flowers and sweet fruits.

Chapter 6: Time is like a song. Time comes and goes in a hurry Unconsciously, junior high school has been almost three years. Looking back suddenly, I found that the years were like songs.

The first day, cheerful music.

When I was in junior high school, I took off my immature coat when I was in primary school, and I didn't have time to put on mature and steady fashion. At this time, we are carefree, without the pressure of the senior high school entrance examination, and there are no exams that interfere with our lives. Our days are full of joy. I laugh and chase all day, whisper in class and read picture books. It seems that our task is to laugh, play rather than study, and most of our energy is concentrated on 10 minutes after class. These ten minutes constitute our first grade. Whenever we hear the bell, we always cheer up and prepare for a happy 10 minute.

This is the first day, a cheerful tune. ...

The next day, lyrical ancient rhyme

On the second day, life was obviously tense. Maybe it's because it's almost a year before the senior high school entrance examination. 10 minutes between classes is no longer as lively as the first day of junior high school, and I become calm. Gradually, the days flow slowly in the busy and fulfilling footsteps. Sometimes I bow my head and think about one question after another; Sometimes communicate with classmates and overcome difficulties. During this period, I have the pride and joy of solving difficult problems, the sadness and distress of failing in the exam, and the gratitude and satisfaction of helping each other. This is the second day, full of our feelings for each other.

This is the second day, lyrical ancient rhyme. ...

Third grade, passionate rock.

Another year has passed, and I am in Grade Three. The senior high school entrance examination is just around the corner, and the study pressure is enormous. It can really be said that "there are quizzes every day, and the big exams are 369, etc." I am on tenterhooks every day for fear of failing the exam. Our pens are flying on the paper and our brains are running at full speed. In the face of unknown achievements, my heart beats faster and doubles every minute. Oh, my God! For the senior high school entrance examination, come on, work hard and struggle! Our life is full of passion and we are eager for success!

This is the third grade, passionate rock. ...

Years are like songs, cheerful minor, lyrical ancient rhyme and passionate rock and roll constitute the symphony of junior high school life. Years like songs, true feelings of schoolmates, teachers' instruction and care of elders all interpret the theme song "Unforgettable Years".

Chapter 7: Time is like a song. People often say: "Time flies". In my opinion, time is like a beautiful song, but unfortunately it will end when it is finished! Three years have passed in a blink of an eye, and I recall the happy time I spent with my classmates and the good memories we had together!

I remember that there were three sports meetings, and some students who were just unfamiliar with the first grade, and a large family would blush when they talked together. We are about to face a three-year hasty departure. I remember the tug-of-war and basketball match held in Xi Xue school at that time, the cooperation of one class and the competition with other classes. How exciting and unforgettable! As long as a goal is scored in the basketball game, the whole class will cheer and cheer for the goal! That's right. How happy we are! Although we didn't win in the end, our cooperation and unity were the best gains. Although we will shed tears, we will not give up, because the word "losing" will never exist in our 90 1 class. How sad it is to think that a big family will be separated soon! In this big family, we have bitter and happy memories! Every time something happy happens, we will laugh together, but when something sad happens, everyone will be unhappy! This big family embodies the feelings of our classmates, teachers and students in Class 90/KLOC-0!

Looking back, the man was in the dim light!

Even if three years go by like a song, I believe we will always remember each other! Let's ride the sail of time, even if we miss each other in a harbor! But I always believe that fate will meet me! Let the former 90 1, the present 90 1 and the future 90 1 never disappear with time!

Chapter 8: Time is like outside the pavilion, beside the ancient road, the grass is blue and the sky is blue; The evening breeze blows the willow flute, and the setting sun goes over the mountains. The horizon of the sky, the corner of the earth, and the intimate friends are half scattered; A glass of wine will make you happy, so don't go to Meng Han tonight. -inscription

Three years of junior high school passed in a blink of an eye. The scene at the time of registration is still vivid; The scene of military training and the scene of secretly eating snacks in the dormitory during military training are still vivid; The sweat that my friends and I shed on the field came last, which was her comfort to me; Memories are still as warm as tea

In the snack street behind the school, there is always our laughter and grief. In the seventh and eighth grades, we often ate in this snack street during extracurricular activities. When she is full, she goes to the stationery store, because she likes collecting all kinds of pens and books as much as I do. Therefore, after every purchase, we all complain together, why did we buy it again? There is no room in the pencil case, so there are all kinds of entanglements.

Under the vines behind the school playground, there are often snacks that we "smuggle" back from outside the school. We chatted over snacks. Sometimes when we are unhappy, we don't eat, buy a bunch of snacks and hide under vines, which is faster than anyone else, and then go back to work with a smile.

When I am late, she always puts my stool down from the table and sits in my seat. After the teacher has checked my big group, you go back to your seat. When I entered the classroom, she pretended to be a student on duty to help me with my schoolbag. I will get to the position soon, and she will pass it to me.

Three years of junior high school passed in the blink of an eye, and I have to go. But I don't want to say goodbye to you, and I don't want to say blessing. The best thing is to be silent, leave our dreams to the night, leave our past bits and pieces to memories, leave our tears to the sea and leave our hopes to the future. Let our past bits and pieces become the purest memories in our hearts.