#1 When the grass is von ylq 15.11.2019 07:13

When the grass is pressed by the boulder, there is a belief that it is fearless and straight. When the butterfly is trapped by the cockroach, there is a desire to let it release itself and rush out of the cage. This is the voice of life, although tiny, but it is the most beautiful voice in the world Newport 100S. Even a delicate dandelion, in the face of difficulties, can also write a strong voice of life. That morning, the sky was gloomy, and the gray color made people feel extraordinarily depressed. I wandered the path in the garden and looked at this deserted world. It was gradually raining, and I couldn��t get back home, hiding under a wall. In a panic, an inconspicuous dandelion came into view. It was a weak dandelion - the thin stems seemed to break when touched, and the leaves were thin, as if the wind was blowing, the petals would fall on the flowerbed and falter. I gently knelt down, gently stroking its delicate petals with my fingers, watching it whisper and crying in the rain, can not help but feel sad for this small life. The rain is getting bigger, the wind is swelling with dark clouds, and the raindrops of the beans are licking their faces. I retracted my fingers and bent back under the wall. In the rain curtain, the dandelion swayed the waist, and the tender green tip curled up, and the sound of "sand sand - rustling" was emitted in the wind. As the rain is getting denser and denser, the wind is getting stronger and stronger, and the dandelion is shaking more. The white, delicate, small umbrella-like fluff was rolled into the air by the storm, tearing it, turning it into pieces, flying without a trace. My heart seemed to be stunned by people, and the pain of nowhere came to my heart. The dandelion pulled up hard, but it was forced to bend over Cheap Cigarettes, and the dignity made it hard to feel the waist again, but it could not be realized. I couldn't take the wind and rain, and gently covered my petals with the petals. The dandelion gradually stopped swinging, but it still shivered in the cold rain. A thunderbolt exploded at the horizon, and I was shocked and retracted. The dandelion was once again exposed to the wind and rain. The dandelion was wet, and the rain hit its body and made a squeaking sound. A gust of wind blew again, it seems to be uprooted, it struggled to stand firm, and looked up reluctantly, as if shouting loudly: "Let the storm come harder! I am not afraid!" Flat, a wave of up again. In a hurry, a person flies away, his steps are heavy and powerful, and he can easily step on the flat and weak dandelion with one foot. "Never!" I clenched my hand and wanted to stop the tragedy. It��s too late, and the rickety dandelion was smashed by the man. I walked over and took up the dandelion, unconsciously, two drops of tears dripping on its emerald green leaves. The rain is still falling, the wind is still blowing, I buried the dandelion in the soil, and its petals have been completely knocked down Marlboro Lights, leaving only bare branches. There is a trace of sorrow in my heart, sighing for the fate of dandelion. I waved goodbye to it and prayed for it. In the evening, I sat by the window, watching the green willows combing my hair that was wet with the wind and rain, and still remembering the poor dandelion in my heart. Is it alright? Such a strong storm must have buried it. Another morning, I went to the dandelion with grief and anticipation. What surprised me is that it is not only dead, but more vibrant! Before the dandelion swept away, it was dying. It was straight and thin. Although there was no fragrant petals, it still smiled confidently into the sky. The leaves were washed by the rain and became more bright and stretched. Breath - the belief in life. I stared at the arrogant dandelion, and the sound of the screams and oaths in the wind and rain seemed to sound. The new roots had to make a "squeaky" sound, although tiny, but powerful! I put my ears close to the ground and listened to the sound of life moving up. This small, but intensely playing sound of life rhythm is so small that it exudes the vitality of life. This is the most beautiful voice in the world. Strong voice of life
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