The story composition in the photo is in grade one.

Whether in school or in society, we often see the figure of composition. Composition is a narrative method to express a theme through words. What is the composition you have seen? The following is the story composition in my carefully arranged photos, hoping to help everyone.

The story composition in the photo is 1. I like taking pictures very much since I was a child, so I miss several photo albums whenever I look at them, but my favorite one is going to the zoo with my kindergarten classmates.

It was a summer vacation two years ago. Kindergarten students invited me to play in the zoo and took a photo by the pool. In the photo, I stood there with my hands akimbo, straight, wearing a big red skirt with angry bird patterns on it, and my expression looked serious. But my classmate stood there and didn't know what to look at.

I remember that it was a summer, and my classmates and I went to the Qinling Wildlife Park to play. The park is too big. The wall is made of stone, and there are green trees and bushes everywhere. It is very green. We got off the bus and walked a long way to reach the gate of the park. I feel so tired that I don't know which step to take first. I asked my uncle, "How long does it take my uncle to visit animals?" My uncle said, "Soon, soon."

Finally arrived, I saw the spectacular scenery. Rockery made of stone, with a lake in front, surrounded by a small lake. The green lake is clear and transparent, and you can see the sand and stones at the bottom of the lake and many small red goldfish playing happily. Under the sunlight, the lake is sparkling. The majestic rockery is not afraid to show weakness, vying for tourists to climb it.

We chased and roughed up on the rocks. Mother saw that we had a good time and took a photo. My classmates and I stood up early, and I even posed. However, her brother still walked slowly and carefully to the rock where we stood. The "click" camera took this precious scene, but the little brother hasn't come yet, and half a leg hasn't been taken yet. What a pity!

Whenever I see this photo, I have endless aftertaste, and a beautiful scene emerges in front of me. It contains all the friendship and happiness at that time.

The story composition in the photo is the first day of Grade Two. Looking back, it is full of happiness and unforgettable. The photo recorded the beauty of that moment, and happiness ran aground at that moment.

This photo belongs to me and my brother. At that time, I was only in the fourth grade, and my brother was 3 years old. This photo was taken when my father took us to the dam to fly kites. At that time, my brother and I really took great pains. At the beginning, we were frugal and confident. Isn't it just flying kites? As long as there is wind. But when we started flying kites, the first time we started flying kites, we had a duel. No matter how hard my brother and I try, the kite can't fly. My brother and I looked at the kite sadly, panting and exhausted, thinking about how to put it away. Suddenly, I had a brainwave. It turns out that I made a mistake about the wind direction. I should run against the wind before I adjust my kite to fly. We stopped for a while, I tried to run against the wind, and my brother ran with us. Finally, we watched the kite fly slowly. The higher we fly, the happier we jump. My brother runs on the grass with a kite string. Let's poss together! Celebrate the joy of success. Just as my brother and I were posing, my father pressed the shutter and recorded this wonderful moment.

In the photo, my brother holds a "hinge scissors" in his left hand and a kite reel in his right hand, smiling happily, with his left foot moving forward and his heel on tiptoe. With a ribbon in my hand, I bent down symmetrically with my brother to pose as a "hinged scissors", smiling happily, opening my mouth wide, revealing a row of uniform teeth, releasing my favorite and happy breath. At that moment, the sun also released all the warmth, shining on us and reflecting the best shadow.

This photo is the warmth and happiness of my brother and me. It remembers the good past and carries love and happiness. A photo, a moment of recollection, a period of time, a mood. Every photo is a specimen of Shaoguang. Fleeting, but forever. We can't stay in Shaoguang, only the best memories remain in our hearts!

There is a little girl in the photo, that is me, and I look a little nervous. It was taken while sliding the cableway in Penang Valley, Hainan. I clenched my hands and bowed my head in fear.

Before you slide the ropeway, you should do some preparatory work: fasten your seat belt and wear gloves. When I was waiting in line, I felt some unspeakable fears. Looking at the bottomless Woods under the ropeway, my fear increased again. I asked cautiously, "Mom, will you fall down when you skate?" Can you not slip? ""the money has been paid, why not slide? " Mom said, "it's okay, it won't fall." If it falls, it will fall early. Don't worry! "Speaking of which, maybe the equipment is aging now? I slipped? It was my turn in the blink of an eye. I hesitate to reach out and put on my seat belt and gloves. Looking at others' eagerness to try, I finally got a little down to earth. I got up the courage to get on the ropeway.

"Hoo-"It's downhill now, and a gust of wind roared past my ear. "Help!" My cry for help echoed in the valley. My soul has long since disappeared, and my father shouted "Cool!" I screamed "Help!" In the front. My legs are straight and close together. Although I was scared, I couldn't help looking down from time to time. Looking at the Woods below, my eyes are blurred and my legs are weak, but they are still sandwiched together. I held the handle tightly with both hands for fear of falling. At the end of the game, I found a camera taking a sneak shot and immediately squeezed out a strange smile. After sliding the ropeway, my mother spent 10 yuan and bought this photo. Since then, this photo I took on the ropeway has been preserved.

I feel the taste of the ropeway, its adventure and fun, and the feeling of "trapeze". I will go next time!

The story in the photo is composed from small to large. I have many photos, which record my growth process and let me see myself grow from a baby to a pupil. These photos also witnessed the places I have been and recalled my trip, which is also a very happy thing. The most meaningful thing in my memory is the photo of me riding a camel in Mingsha Mountain in Dunhuang.

It was July of 20xx, and I went to Dunhuang, a famous cultural shrine, under the leadership of my mother. On the first day in Dunhuang, my mother and aunt and I went to Mingsha Mountain.

It was very hot that day, and the sand was boiling hot. You should wear thick shoe covers. Everyone is wearing thick sun protection tools. Mingsha Mountain is a desert area, and there are almost no trees around it, so it is necessary to prepare for sun protection. The best thing to go to Mingsha Mountain is riding a camel. Under the protection of menstruation Milk, I rode a camel, led by a special person, and climbed the high hillside. The wind on the mountain is so strong that many people's hats are blown off. Camels are hard to walk every time. There is sand in the wind, so I can't open my eyes. I feel like I'm about to be blown down by the strong wind. In this way, I took this precious photo in the wind mixed with gravel.

The story in the photo stood on the top of the mountain, and I saw the beautiful crescent spring and Mingsha Pavilion. My mother said that it is because of the strong wind that sand makes noise, just like the sound made by sand, so it is called Mingshan sand. Behind Mingsha Mountain is the Mogao Grottoes, which is a very important oasis on the ancient Silk Road. Many monks in ancient times, including the Tang Priest in The Journey to the West, which I often watch on TV, all went to the Western Regions from here, and went further to India. At that time, there was no modern means of transportation, relying entirely on camels and people's feet, and there was no way to achieve it without strong perseverance.

Three months have passed since my trip to Dunhuang, but I often think of the experience of riding a camel in Mingsha Mountain in Dunhuang. This photo left the best impression on me. I like Mingsha Mountain and Crescent Spring. One day, I will come to Mingsha Mountain to ride a camel!

The story composition in the photo opens the photo album of the fifth day, and the memory is like the tide in Shanglin Lake. A photo taken at the new york Museum in the United States stung my eyes.

That's a picture of a Dunhuang mural. I took it through the thick glass of the museum. This mural depicts a singer playing the lute with his hands behind his back. The woman is charming and graceful, with drooping phoenix eyes and indifferent smile. It seems that she can still hear the nameless music flowing between her fingers.

New york Museum has many Dunhuang cultural relics, especially murals. If it weren't for the labels written in English on the display case and the men and women with blond hair and deep facial features around me, I almost thought I was in a museum in China.

Think back to the books you have read and piece together your impression of that era. It was a war-torn era, with warlords fighting and people in dire straits. This is a country with a history of thousands of years, which is a matter of life and death.

Piansheng was born when the road ahead was uncertain and life and death were uncertain. Oracle Bone Inscriptions and Mogao Grottoes were born one after another, one was the sword and pencil of the Yin people, and the other was the suicide note of the Tang and Song Dynasties. One is a childhood song, and the other is an echo of the prime of life. Only Oracle Bone Inscriptions was discovered, interpreted and protected by Wang Guowei, Dong Zuobin and others, while the Mogao Grottoes just drifted westward in Stein and Warner's motorcades. For thousands of years,19th century's indifference scattered in the desert yellow sand all over the world has made China culture homesick for a long time.

Many China people gathered in front of the showcase and whispered in front of the glass windows of foreign museums, like Wan Li, whispering in front of her elderly ancestors not far from her children and grandchildren, all with tears flashing.

We don't know the real situation two centuries ago. The only witnesses in those years were these unspeakable cultural relics. Displayed in museums in other countries, it silently tells the sins of cultural invaders and relieves bitterness with a cool and elegant smile.

In this photo, there is a sad and touching story hidden.

Today, sadness and emotion continue.

The composition of the story in the photo is the summer breeze of the sixth day and the first day of the sixth day, which blows the strings of the years. Looking at the primary school graduation photo on the table, the past is like a flood.

Last summer, the birch trees outside the window were still so quiet, cicadas were still so noisy, and cotton-wool clouds still set off the blue sky. Everything was so beautiful on graduation day, too beautiful to give up. We seem to have returned to the past: next to the spring of Thanksgiving, we were still children; In the Woods, we are still naughty, picking flowers and playing; In class, we are like scholars again. However, the rush of time only leaves memories in our minds.

The process of taking the last photo is very long, and everyone seems unwilling to let time pass so quickly. We felt the warmth of the sun, and the photographer took some photos when we were intoxicated. When we came to our senses, we only saw the teacher smiling at us with tears in her eyes. It was a gratified smile, but also a reluctant smile. I don't know who bowed to the teacher first, but everyone bowed to the teacher, as if silently thanking the teacher. 49 people, neatly following the teacher, appeared in front of the camera again. This time, everyone didn't make any noise, as if to end their primary school career with dignity and no regrets. Click, we graduated! The primary school career is over, and all the memories are left in the photos.

I came to my senses, took out my photos, and ran my fingers across that childish face, each of which was so familiar and real. Six years of laughter and drama ... finally ended in graduation photo. I believe that those deep memories and stories about friendship and teacher-student love will stay in the depths of my memory forever, and I firmly believe that they will accompany me all my life.

The story composition in the photo 7 This photo was taken in the winter when I was ten years old. At first glance, snow became the only background in the photo. The most striking thing in the photo is a little boy who lost his balance and was about to fall. And this thing that made the little boy lose his balance turned out to be a snowball the size of a football, which was buckled on the boy's head. Others may laugh when they see this photo, but I will blush when I see this photo. Because the embarrassing boy in the photo is me.

It was snowing that day. My parents and I took a leisurely walk in the snowy neighborhood. Naughty little snowflakes fall from the sky from time to time and fall on my head and shoulders. I looked at the snow everywhere and an idea popped into my mind. I am happy to say to my mother, "Mom, let's have a snowball fight!" " Mom also nodded: "well, let you and your father PK!" " "

The game has started. I quickly built a protective wall, struggled to make snow into chunks behind the wall, and then pressed the chunks into snowballs. Soon, I made a pile of snowballs. I was sitting in the snow, and before I had a rest, my father began to have an attack. Snowballs came at me everywhere. I dodged and threw snowballs at my father.

After playing for a while, I was lying on the ground, panting heavily. Dad saw that I was exhausted and sat on the snowdrift watching my mobile phone. I ignored my father, picked up a big snowball and threw it at the treetops above my father's head. The treetops shook violently a few times, and all the snow on the trees fell right on my father. Dad became a veritable "snowman".

Dad is very angry. He grabbed a snowball the size of a football from the ground and threw it at me with both hands. The snowball "exploded" just above my head. And the mother on the side just seized this moment.

A photo is a story, and an album contains hundreds of stories. These stories are all memories of my childhood, and I cherish them very much.

The story composition in the photo is the first day of the eighth grade. I silently sigh that time flies, the sun and the moon fly, and in an instant. The eyes around the mountain stared at the photos on the table and cabinet, and their eyes glazed over and slowly walked to Zhou Gui's side. Standing on tiptoe, holding the desktop in one hand, she took out the photos from the cabinet of the female prime minister.

After the heavy rain, the color of the earth changed after the rain cleared, but the color of the only unwashed photo contains a lot of joy and sadness behind each photo. Photos freeze the time of a certain moment in the world and taste the present past.

After writing the topic at the airport, I finally ushered in a weak but dazzling sunshine. The flowers and plants that have just been baptized by wind and rain in the flower bed are full of vitality at the moment. Some water in the playground bottle is stored in the broken tile pit, and the sunlight is reflected on the golden water surface. The blue sky and pure white clouds are full of fresh air, and everything feels so beautiful.

My alma mater, where I lived for six years, is too familiar. In the face of leaving my alma mater, my heart is still full of disappointment, but in any case, we will face parting after all. In the afternoon, I want a photo of graduation photo drawing a happy ending to primary school life.

Although we often verbally say that it is good to go to junior high school and graduate immediately, in fact, each of us knows that we are duplicitous. We have lined up neatly since we were born, and the pace is no longer catching up, but Fan's feet are recovering. Every step we take, we spend less time together.

When our classmates stood in a row in order, the girls squatted in front, the teacher was full, and three typesetters squatted in four rows, holding their heads high. The photographer shouted "Look at the camera, one, two, three" and pressed the button to freeze everyone's face on the photo.

The students forced a smile on their faces and took it off instead of tears in their eyes, but the students all looked at each other and were forced by Yang Jie, the head of Xijiang River. Pour away your tears and comfort each other.

I forgot the photo for a long time, and finally I couldn't bear to put it back. Now I am full of sadness. The photo recorded us who were naive, lovely and naive at that time.

Everyone has a photo, and I am no exception. Look, the "Big Mac" on the wall is mine. In the photo, I was shivering in the refrigerator with an ice cream in my hand. I remember/kloc-in the summer when I was 0/8 years old, it was so hot that birds disappeared everywhere during the day, and it was very hot in the cool shade. I rushed into the house panting from the outside. Sweat slipped from my face and hit my clothes soaked with sweat. I picked up the ice cream in my hand and tore open the packaging bag. My whole face was wrinkled into a bitter gourd face in an instant, and the ice cream was half melted. What should I do? I remember that my mother usually keeps fruits and vegetables in the refrigerator. It is said that they can be frozen to keep fresh. I can't help but shine at the moment. I can put the ice cream in and freeze it. I rushed to the refrigerator, the machine I had been coveting for a long time. As soon as I opened the refrigerator door, the cold wind made me feel like I was in a world of ice and snow, and the heat on my body had already disappeared without a trace.

I put the ice cream in the refrigerator and closed the refrigerator door, and the cool feeling disappeared again. Soon, I was sweating again. I crept to the bedroom door and looked inside. There was no one there. I secretly rejoiced, rushed to the front of the refrigerator like a broken arrow, opened the refrigerator like a hungry tiger, and enjoyed the cool wind. Looking at the ice cream, it seems to have taken shape, but it is a bit strange. I just sat in the refrigerator and licked my ice cream. As if I felt cold, unknown liquid slowly flowed out of my nose. When I was eating ice cream, I swished my nose back. I was absorbed in all this, but I didn't know anyone had come in. Click, this moment is fixed in the photo.

Photos, recording laughter and childlike interest, will still be in stitches for the laughter at that time when they are seen many years later.

10 On the first day, I was looking through the story composition in the photo. This one was taken when I went to Xiyue, and that one was taken when I went to Jiulong Mountain. I turned over one by one and didn't laugh. At the end of the photo, a photo with the most exquisite seal and a little yellow in the long run came into my sight.

I carefully took this photo out of the album. The little girl in the photo is the same as me. I asked my mother, and she said, "This was when you were a child! Don't you remember? "

I shook my head. I really don't remember taking such a photo. In the photo, I am wearing a pink shirt, sweatpants, slippers and bangs. This hairstyle, haha, looks like Nezha.

What makes me laugh even more is my timid face, and I can't help laughing. Mom said, "This is your first time to take photos in a photo studio. Don't you dare to go in, hold the cupboard at the front desk. Finally, I managed to coax you into taking pictures. As soon as the lights went dark, you ran out in fear. It made the photographers laugh. We are all rare. Don't children like taking pictures? Why were you so afraid of taking pictures at that time? Finally, we thought about the reason, perhaps because you are afraid of the dark. "

My brother often taunts me with this photo. He always said that taking this photo was my "peak". Just say it, I don't care. I suspect that the "photo studio accident" should be the only "worry" when I was a child. At present, I like taking pictures very much, but I don't go out so often because of my study. Now that I think about it, my childhood is really enviable.

The only thing that puzzles me is that this photo is so old, why should I keep it? Mom said that although the photo is old, it will never be old. Mom said it would take twenty years for ten cars to be taken out.

I gently put the photos into the album, so let this time be treasured in the album forever!

The story composition in the photo 1 1 Last summer vacation, I went to Camus Terrace and left a lot of photos, but my favorite was a photo with an old grandmother Camus.

On our way to climb the terraced fields, there is a canteen, a pure peasant canteen, which is very deserted. The so-called ice water and ice cucumber are the mineral water in the ice bucket. Father thought this small shop was very interesting, so he went in and shouted, "Boss, have an iced cucumber!" " "Then he grabbed one and chewed it." Mmm, cool! "As soon as the voice fell, there was a cry," Oh, good! " A voice with a Miao accent came from the canteen. Then there was a heavy sound of crutches, and out came a Miao grandmother, with a dark face full of wrinkles, a pair of silver rings hanging from her ears and wearing traditional Miao costumes. The father asked, "How much is it?" "Three, three." "No, I'm embarrassed." After the father finished, he took out 50 pieces and gave them to the grandmother, and took three cucumbers. Grandma looked grateful and smiled and turned over her cloth bag. "I was looking for you ..." The bag was full of 15 cents. "Don't look, don't look. "The father quickly shouted. I just stuffed 50 yuan into the bag.

At this time, another young tourist came: "Grandma, a bottle of water." "All right, 2 yuan." "I'll go! So cheap-will there be any problems? " But when he saw his grandmother's kind smile, he was shocked. He seems to believe that such eyes show real sincerity, so he simply stuffed 20 yuan to his grandmother and shouted at the crowd on the mountain: "Save grandma!" " People gradually poured in and took all the water or cucumbers, but all they gave was10,20 or even 100. Grandma watched, wrinkles relaxed and tears welled up in her eyes. She kept saying, "Thank you, thank you …" Before she left, we took a picture with our grandmother.

In the photo, she smiled so happily, like a flower, a flower in late spring. On that day, I learned what true feelings and warmth are. How many simple people can there be in the world with all kinds of scams and tricks? How much kindness and warmth is there like this?

The story composition in the photo 12 opened my childhood photo album, and the precious photos opened my dusty memory. Open it, and a colorful photo attracted me for a while. It is so ordinary and exquisite. ...

The most striking thing in the photo is the girl, wearing a long white dress, like an angel. The crown on her head represents Her Majesty the Queen. Her short hair is naughty and capable, and her bare feet show a child's innocence and cuteness.

Because I was an introverted child when I was a child, I didn't dare to speak in the lecture hall. I talked to others like a kitten, too small to hear. My parents are also very angry about this, but they also break my heart for my introversion. Always tell me the benefits of talking loudly, and even sign up for all kinds of talk front classes, but my words to my parents always pass with a "yes", and I always cope with talk front classes. But when I was seven years old, my father dragged someone who was too eager to take pictures to the photo studio for a while. Under the lens of my father, my eyes are erratic, my expression is stiff, and the smile on my mouth is so crooked and indomitable. This is a very ordinary photo, but full of affection. I took a bath in it and wanted to soak honey, but my nose was sour and tears could not help flowing out. After I understood my parents' intentions, I gradually became open.

Since then, my parents have taken a group of photos for me on my birthday every year, and since then, I have left my own growing footprints. Through the photos, I seem to see their busy figures again, thanking them for their care and lessons.

Whenever I look through these photos, a warm feeling always arises spontaneously, and thirteen years of dribs and drabs pass by my eyes. Being in the ocean of love, I believe I can go through ups and downs in the future, and I will also touch my parents' no longer young faces with my hands. ...

The story composition in the photo 13 I saw the photo again. In the room, in the room where my mother and I were alone, a thousand words suddenly came to my mind: "Dad ..."

A few days before the incident, my parents seemed to have a few more wrinkles on their faces, and their faces were much haggard than before-they should be worried about something important. That night, I was lying in bed sleeping. In the dim light, I saw a familiar figure walking lightly beside me. It was my father! I saw him wake me up gently and said to me in a helpless or even reluctant tone: "Han, dad is going to do business in other places, and I'm afraid only mom will accompany you in the future!" " I'm leaving in a few days. "This sentence is like a bolt from the blue, ordinary night because of this sentence has become a permanent night, a frightening night! I really don't understand: "Why did Dad leave? Isn't life here very good? Where to go and what to do? ..... "Many doubts bother me, and the more I think about it, the more excited I am. I said loudly to my father, "Dad, why are you leaving?"? Don't you like staying here? " Dad frowned and said, "Han, how can you say that?" "Dad, this is for ..."

He said nothing and went out again, leaving me alone in bed.

Everything seems to be quiet again, but it's terrible to be quiet! Time is ticking, so loud, it seems that the next second will tear me to pieces! My heart is still unable to restore calm for a long time, and my heart is still full of doubts. I slowly came to the door of my father's room. Through the crack of the door, I saw a tired face, shaking my head and sighing, and my wrinkles were full of anxiety. There is still a pile of information about shops at hand. I kept nagging while sorting it out: "It's really hard to find a good location, but it's easier to make money when you find it. If you earn money, you can make a good life for Korea ..." When I heard this, I was ashamed and quietly withdrew. ...

When my father left home, I was at school and couldn't say goodbye to my father, but he gave me a photo, hoping I could remember him when I saw it. Since then, that photo has been in my room.

A photo, containing beautiful memories, has been buried deep in my heart; A photo is my father's love, and he will accompany me to continue sailing.

The story composition in the photo is 14, grade one. I never miss the past in the movies too much, but I just feel that the past has passed. Except one of them. This was taken when I was very young. The people in the photo are drawing, and the paint is scattered all over the floor, which makes the photo look particularly eye-catching. The man, however, was indifferent, and continued to "splash ink on the landscape" with a brush in one hand and a sponge as an eraser in the other. Even with a large piece of paint on your face, that smile is still bright! That man, that's me!

When I was a child, I was very naughty. There was no place on the white wall at home that could escape my clutches. My dad had no choice but to hire a wall painter. As soon as the master entered our house, he was speechless when he saw the wall at home. He said, "Your wall is quite artistic ..." Later, the wall was finally painted and my father was satisfied, but his heart was always a little empty.

Later, I learned that this art was called "painting" and was deeply influenced by it. I began to study hard and explore the mystery of painting. Gradually, I began to have my own paintings, one after another, which gradually brought color and vitality to my gray room. Later, in order to paint, my mother took me to many places, enjoyed the great rivers and mountains and magnificent scenery of the motherland, experienced the exotic customs of other places and some inconspicuous but unforgettable corners, which gradually enriched my picture.

Later, my wild art moved to paper, but because the paper was too small to play to the extreme, I learned to converge. Father said that putting it away freely is the real art.

I like painting, which adds a lot of vitality and fun to my life, and also injects a touch of beautiful color into my life. I will always stick to it, and I will always cherish that meaningful photo!

The story composition in the photo 15 "I just want to seize the fleeting time and say goodbye. Thank you for your regret. I can't go back to yesterday. I just want to remember this moment, the light years we walked together. After June, Lightyear will be commemorated. " The song "Remembrance" has been echoing in my ears. Holding primary school graduation books and photos, recalling the past.

Last summer, we ushered in the primary school graduation, and the class became very affectionate. Every student doesn't know how many alumni records he has written. With the joy of not having to take the junior high school entrance examination, with the regret of entering the primary school countdown, I am about to leave my teachers and classmates. We walked through the last time hand in hand.

Wearing uniforms, I took the last photo with my classmates and teachers, and we graduated. A total of 49 people, a lot. The happiness, sadness and happiness of primary school all exist in this photo and in the hearts of every classmate.

On the last class of the last day of the primary school trip, we stopped attending classes. Teacher Zhou, the head teacher, sat in front of the platform and said, "Children, today is the last class, and you are going to graduate. I wish you a smooth junior high school career in the future. The teacher will always love you, and you will always be the teacher's child. A small door of the university is always open to you. Welcome to meet the teacher. " After that, we stood up and bowed to us. We all stood up and returned the gifts to the teacher. Our class's graduation song "To the Distance" sounded. This slightly sad and helpless song made our class cry down a large number of people, and the teacher's tears overflowed from her eyes and dripped on the podium.

School is over, and primary school is the last time. Each of us looked at the classroom. Tables and chairs, blackboards, platforms, everything is so familiar. We are all trying to remember it. Until the teacher said the last thing we wanted to hear: "Goodbye, classmates!" "Everyone didn't leave, say goodbye to other students one by one, maybe forever.

"I just want to seize the time and say goodbye. Carve your smiling faces in your hearts and watch the shooting stars cross the horizon. Make our wish, let now be forever, forever! " The song rang again, and I don't know when I burst into tears, and the photos became blurred with tears.

Time is not old, we will not leave. Students and teachers, I miss you!