Youth is an unrepentant poem. There is a poem that is the most touching, and that is youth; There is a period of life that is the most beautiful, and that is youth; There is the most beautiful scenery, and that is youth. Please don't say that your youth is exhausted. Maybe your fantasy has been ruthlessly destroyed by reality. Maybe your pursuit is fruitless, but you should believe that there is no colorful spring without the baptism of the cold wind. Without hard work, how can there be fruitful results? Youth is a poem with no regrets.
Youth can also be purple. It's a mature color, just like wisteria, which never gives up. In youth, we no longer hide in our parents' arms, listen to the coaxing of foster parents, and no longer let tears become our own patents. We began to learn to be independent and strong step by step.
Youth is a touch of rosy clouds on the horizon, fleeting, but beautiful; Youth is a shining ripple on the lake. It swims with the waves, but it shines brightly. Youth is a cluster of wintersweet blooming on high branches. It is shattered by rain, snow and frost, and it is still fragrant.