Write about the Moon (150)

The moonlight is bleak, like running water, pouring quietly on the table, making my face pale. I think of my parents, and I may still be working hard at this time; I think of my parents who get up early and work in the dark, so thin; I think of my parents' faces tanned by the sun, wrinkles carved on their foreheads by ruthless years, and chapped hands; Every time before leaving, I think of my parents' words of concern and my legs of expectation; Thinking of everyone who cares about her. Now ... I am ashamed of their concern.

Outside the window, the moon has risen so high; In the window, it's the same. Painful memories make me feel too tired. I looked up and tried to stretch my brain. Suddenly, a tall and straight image came into my eyes. I took a closer look, and it turned out to be the poplar tree outside the window, the poplar tree that survived many snowstorms. It is taller and straighter than before. I suddenly thought of Madame Curie, Edison and General Wellington ... A cold wind blew and the leaves rustled, interrupting my thoughts. I had a cold war, and my mind was much clearer: no, I must not shrink back, I want to take back the first place that once belonged to me. Failure only represents yesterday, it can only mean the past, and everything in the past can only be wiped out. I want to start over, face failure with a new attitude and meet the next challenge.

Tears on my face turned into a magical force and poured into my whole body. I turned on the light and the dormitory was much warmer. I looked at the test paper soaked with tears, dried my tears, picked up a pen, and began to sum up seriously, looking for the reasons for failure ... I want this failure to be my motivation.

Outside the window, the bright moonlight poured thousands of miles. I don't know when the stars came out. I blinked my naughty eyes and showed a bright smile on my face.