You are my pupil in the Golden Age never withered flowers - To Mother
Your eyes, reflecting the world's most beautiful scenery; your smile, sketched a bright and splendid paintings; has everything you gave me, is most proud of my life. I, in waking, Yang Zhao mouth is still smiling.
You are my pupil in the Golden Age never withered flowers.
Summer has come. Remember that snow last winter?
Remember? Stern wind that day, you have an appointment for classic mini 5854 women ugg boots in sand
me to deliver meals. The snow was so great, I thought you would not come, turned to go. Made a sudden, I heard a familiar voice calling my name urgently, it sounds as if came from the sky, so clear, so profound. Echoed in the ears over time. Are you, really you.
I see you covered in mud and snow.
"My child, ah, empty it, blame me for being late ... ... "
After dinner, I returned to the classroom. Ah very cold! Indoor and outdoor temperature so that condensation from the window of the small number of crystal drops, sometimes a few drops can not support, fall down, like the Temple of the Sun Liweinasi goddess of blood and tears, leaving a slightly shallow at the top of the track , Woven into a misty day.
Selfless love, tears become gray. All this self-evident.
You have brought me many warm and touching, has brought me many joys and tears. You, in the solitude of the night as I put up a bright star dome, in the silence of the earth as I spun a white dream.
Along the way, have you hand in hand.
The love you gave me, very simple -
Morning, for me, a cup of milk;
Night, covered with a quilt for me;
When cold, add a coat for me;
Rain, the umbrella for my distraction;
Line, as soon as I told on the hides.
... ... ... ...
Faced with such narrow minds, Yan Liang in the world state, they thought, like me, sing maternal love, is contrived. And I, to insist: Mom, daughter will love me like you love you. True.
You are my pupil in the Golden Age never withered flowers.