The Fragments of Those Years

\A quiet classroom\windows and doors tightly closed\shielding the cold air outside\yet still feeling the solitude of the soul\The once noisy classroom\boisterous and clamorous\joyful and leisurely songs\spoken freely and casually by classmates\No longer with the appearance of old days\forgetting the vows once made\promises of everlasting time by each\lost without a trace\Shadows under the lights, alternating between light and dark\are the lonely refuge of one person\Missing the people from before\reminiscing everything that once was\Occasional pranks in the room\surely you\are you also pausing\to listen to the times of those years\Under the dim lamp light\moths tirelessly fly into the fire\Each doing their own act, writing\lightly sketching our mutual plain words\Surely every person from those days is reminiscing\or lamenting the imperfections of those fragmented times\But never regretting\because the calm yet brilliant years were indeed beautiful\Plain yet full of charm\playful yet diligent in learning\quarrelsome yet harmonious\bored yet friendly\evil yet innocent\venting yet not showy\unremembered yet not forgotten\Though we return to the starting point but cannot return to the original, what have we ever not looked forward to in a new appearance of the future?\Memories are certainly unforgettable, whether painful or happy. What remains unchanged is our original belief.\Although falling flowers are so beautiful, in the next moment they disappear\Those years\miss those years\and the best way to commemorate those years\is to cherish the ordinary present\and it will eventually grant us\a genuine hope for the future\In naive youth\do not forget the past\do not waste the present\do not forsake the future\The best way you can predict your future is to create it. We have to believe in ourselves.