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The window was first seen, the sun bridge was in the west, and the cloud was
shaking. It was devastated by the wind and rain yesterday, and it was sunny
again. It��s good, I have a sunny day. Recently, my heart is not calm.
Yesterday, leaning against the window at dusk, the column was hurt. The rain
stretched over the sky and gradually grew bigger. Looking out the window, the
rain was stunned Cigarettes For
, and a pomegranate tree that was so open was shrouded in a darkness,
indifferent. I thought that my carefully prepared piano game was defeated, the
one that was once crazy. I said to everyone: "This first prize, it's none of
me!" Or God's will, and frustrated me, this little boy who doesn't know how to
be tall and arrogant. I practiced piano since childhood, talent? my proud? With
the wind drifting, it has turned into a cockroach. Funny, how can I lose it? The
eyes are full of yellowed wounds. The falling flowers drift with the wind, and
the rain flies. The floor is full of blushing pain like blood, cold and
heartless, no love. "The night dreams are cool, and the bustling floor is
frosted." It was already late, lying in bed all night, and the rain was on the
curtain. Presumably, the once dazzling tree has long ceased to exist! I am
crazy, just like me. The window was first seen, the sun bridge was in the west,
and the cloud was shaking. At the beginning of the morning, I am still sleeping.
Get up and look at the window again, the fruit is full of red, full of desolate,
helpless. Pushing open the window, reaching out to rub the tip of the
pomegranate, moist and moist, but also infiltrated the pain left by the rain and
wind mokingusacigarettes.com,
and it was a sad sympathy and injury. He said: "You can be like me! Wind and
rain, Tired, it hurts...������������ Suddenly, a star of green is reflected in
my eyes. The young, faint white, such as the newborn baby, immaturely, looked at
this little world with curious eyes. The sun shines slightly, and the sweetness
of flowing sputum is flowing. The smell is a fresh taste. Is it a pomegranate
fruit with a smile? The sun is softly scattered on the pomegranate fruit, and
the crystal clear water shines through the dazzling light, how cute! This is the
first cry of a newborn crying in the world, tears. Beautiful, but also hurt.
Yes, not just this one, full of trees, little stars, especially under the breeze
of the sunny breeze. The injury and pain of falling flowers yesterday was
originally for the change of today and the beautiful new life. I laughed.
Looking at the tree is no longer a wound, but a vitality and surprise!
Yesterday, the tree was once a splendid safflower, and then beautiful Marlboro Red, but it was never a
vain bustling, and it will
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