The remnant snow melts into the stream, and the teenager does not know how to worry. It is not until the temples are dyed with white hair that he knows that youth will not look back! what

After the residual snow melts, it becomes water. When I was young, I didn't know the taste of sadness. I didn't know that my youth was gone forever until my hair turned white.

Youth is like poetry, with beautiful expectations, and youth is like song.

Singing the beauty of life on the road of chasing dreams, that beautiful dream is unforgettable, unforgettable, unforgettable, but youth is too short, time flies, and we haven't waited for us to enjoy it.