Describing the weather is not like describing the scenery with emotional anger.

It's raining in Mao Mao, and the ripples in the water slowly open. I sighed softly and looked at the sky sadly. I suddenly felt that the surroundings turned black and gray, the flowers stopped smiling, the wind stopped singing, and the road became longer …

Autumn leaves have withered for a whole season, and the bright moon seems to be a tearful face. Looking back, I can clearly remember how many times I failed and how many times I didn't want to. Let it go. Youth full of ideals will always open their wings and embrace tomorrow again and again.