An engraving of t

An engraving of tree

I was positive in his, schooling in a normal school. Don't know when, I will keep thinking about the heart of one of o-class girls, increasingly hard not to go. Sitting in the classroom, I eagerly look forward to from her window. Standing in the hallway, hold the railing and students to chat. Brain-like long after the eye, watching secretly from behind me after her. Sure enough, she is here! Together with her chaperone, swallow, twittering come. I dare not turn around and look at her eyes until they like the wind, from my side over gently. Then I looked, saw long flowing hair, regular olfactory long hair.
I just broke down, trying to find her say, tell me she or, handed her the note, to a "Moon willow on the tip of a branch, about the evening. ”
But, I couldn't.
Only love in silence, in secret hope.
One day, in the county on the wilderness of a surname, I'd like a free bird, wandering alone.
In the setting sun, a small poplar trees bending before the wind, all came into view: tall swaying body, thick bright leaves, much like her slim figure, long flowing hair is! Love these past few days, as is holding back floods saw the gap in the dyke, runs out at once. I walk in a hurry the front, half-kneeling next to a tree, caress it is cool and smooth body, heart silently crying girl's name, had tears in Sth
Before leaving, I'm on the smaller rods of poplar, black-tie carved three words, it is the girl's name.
Yihou, after dinner, I'll be on time to come here, to see my idea of a female. In sunset, wearing a gold dress, happily dancing in the evening breeze. Sometimes I would go near it, gently talk about it. Words like honey, dream-like language, unlimited devotion to read qianbianwan times. But once you really see her, What's Left Of Me already fluently, playing played a roll in the mouth, live or die is out or not. Like a child timidly, met a stranger, then hiding behind mother, despite how mother pulled him, won't come out.
In this way, all the way to graduation.
When I last stood in the wilderness a surname when one more piece of paper in his hand, that was last night, I stayed in bed, waving the torch to write a few lines of a poem: "can't say I love you, afraid of high temperature, hurting your delicate skin muscle. Can't say I love you, fear of the poor, bring you the solitude of the soul. Can't say I love you, afraid of the Moon, not to breathe sunshine. Can't say I love you, had a heart, silently blessing you. "On the tree, facing the three words, was in tears, over and talk to my heart. Then, with plastic roll up it, buried in silence under the poplars, hope I am a sincere heart, with its life.
Today, the trees, have long been cut off. Do not know which girl's dowry, which guys do not know in the new House. But I know, there, had buried a young immature love affair. The lush dream, once growth so lush in a foreign land above the sky.
Now is also a carved tree. I stubbornly believe that "you" behind the story certainly have some unforgettable