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The night is as cool as water, and the drips of the past seem clearer in such a dark night. The helpless fleeting time, the faces of many old people, and the fervent passion of many old people. In this quiet night, I stared at the man in the mirror. Was that me? It is a pity that the years have rusted the childishness and childlike taste of the past. The night like water cooled my mind on the tip of my pen. At dusk once, walking through the bustling street, watching the pedestrians coming and going on the street, the busy downtown, and the steady pace stepping on the solid Road, watch the busy figure shuttling through the curtain of the city. The incense on the street has been green for many midsummer, but now there is only yellow elegance. I, a passer-by in this city, strolled on the crowded streets, full of melancholy. Passing through the noisy crowd, turning around the bustling alley and stepping into a park, it was so quiet that there were only fallen leaves on the ground rolling mischievously under the gentle touch of the breeze. In the morning, it was bustling here. There were children chasing and playing, and old people dancing and singing. At such dusk, I became the only audience in the park. Stepping on the soft grass, it made a sound of piripil. The grass was old and haggard. I lay on the bench peacefully, counting the clouds swimming through the sky, just like counting the fleeting years that receded from life. Close your eyes and enjoy the tranquil atmosphere brought by everything in the park. It is like stepping into a gorgeous palace in an instant, walking freely out of a curtain of elegance and letting your mind wander freely. The night like water was filled with the pain of the passing years, and the years peeled off the hot youth on the wall of my heart. Under the lamp, I held a thin pen and came back to my heart. However, the brilliance between the paper will one day become the ink tombs in life with the passing of light at any time. Helpless flowers fell away, and the years changed in the daytime far away my youth and humble the lofty sentiments and ambitions of the past. I was speechless and did not dare to look at the person in the mirror. I was afraid that I could not help feeling sad again. Night, hazy fleeting time, mottled mood, revealing the desolation like water. I hung it on the bed and waited for the dawn of tomorrow. But when my youth went far away, I was afraid that I was the only one who read lonely.

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