A composition for Yangzi’s days

In study, work or life, it is inevitable for everyone to come into contact with or use composition. Composition is a verbal activity in which people express their feelings in written form. How to write an essay to avoid making mistakes? The following is a composition I compiled to write to Yangzi. It is for reference only. Let’s take a look at it together. Composition of Days Written to Yangzi 1

After eighteen years of sharpening my sword, I have lost too much; the innocent smile, the free space, the white wings of dreams; you have taken away too much, The gift was too heavy; the solemn face, the invisible pressure, the long, noon-break "emotion". Shouldn't I cry? How many times have we walked hand in hand! Now that you have written the word "farewell", the smiling faces of the past, the playfulness of the past, and the yellowed memories, have I lost them like this? In this sad and chilly October, shouldn't I cry?

You, you taught me what it means to be calm and what it means to be calm and unhurried. It was you who taught me how to keep calm when others are in chaos. It is you who make me sit here now: stable and calm. Perhaps I have gained a saying: Without indifference, one cannot achieve clear aspirations, and without tranquility, one cannot achieve far-reaching goals.

It’s still you who taught me how to fight hard, made me understand that dreaming and working hard is also a kind of enjoyment, and made me feel the sweetness of sweat and tears. It is you who make me sit here now with a little bit of pride and a little bit of frivolity, because I am fighting all the time. I think, maybe I have gained another sentence: How many times can you win in life!

What about "parting"? What did I learn from it? I can't feel the sadness of "looking at each other's eyes with tears, speechless", nor can I understand the desolation of "looking closely, it's not poplar flowers, they are tears of separation". I can only feel the lightness of gardenias when they bloom. delicate fragrance. Perhaps, I can only be like Pu Shu, grateful and contented, holding my guitar and singing in a low voice in a corner: "Fortunately, I have accompanied them to open up." It is you who taught me how to say goodbye in a hurry in the passing memories. Becoming strong and contented!

I raised my head and looked at you, like a cold wind whistling my body. I caress your face, you are young and proud, although there are a few tears at the cost of growth. Without breaking the ground, without wind and frost, how can you blossom and bear fruit, how can you harvest hope. And I walk in your arms, nothing is lost, how can I gain?

Today, I am still walking in your eyes, watching the sunrise and sunset, admiring the flowers blooming, and savoring the words you once said: life may be lost along the way and gained along the way... Written to Yang Zai's Days Composition 2

After eighteen years of sharpening a sword, I have lost too much; innocent smile, free space, white wings of dreams; you ask for too much, but give too much; solemn face , invisible pressure, long, lunch break "feelings". Shouldn't I cry? How far we walked hand in hand! Now you write the word "farewell", the smiling faces of the past, the playfulness of the past, and the dirty memories. Did I just lose them? In this sad and cold October, shouldn't I cry?

You, you taught me what calmness is, what calmness is. You taught me how to behave and be at peace in times of chaos. It's you who make me sit here right now: stable and calm. Maybe I learned something: if you are not cold and unclear, if you are not quiet, you are not profound.

It’s you who taught me to fight hard, made me understand that dreams and hard work are also a kind of enjoyment, and made me feel the sweetness of sweat and tears. You have me sitting here right now with a little bit of pride and a little bit of levity because I've been struggling. I think, maybe I have gained another sentence: How many times can I blog in this life!

What about "separation"? What did I learn from this? I can't feel the sadness of "holding my hand and looking into my eyes with tears, but can't say anything", nor can I feel the desolation of "not poplar flowers, but a little tear". I can only see the faint fragrance of gardenias in bloom. Maybe, I can only be like Pu Shu, with gratitude and contentment, holding the guitar and singing in the corner: "Fortunately, I have always been open to them." Or you, teach me how to be strong and content in the passing memories.

I look up at you, like a cold wind whistling through my body. I touch your face, young and frustrated.

Although there is a price of growing up and young tears, without breaking the ground and without wind and frost, how can we blossom and bear fruit, how can we gain hope? And when I walk in your arms, I don’t lose anything. How can I gain anything?

Now, I am still walking in front of you, watching the sunrise and sunset, admiring the flowers blooming and falling, and savoring what you once said: life may be confusing along the way, but it will be harvested along the way...