图片发自简书App
I saw a shooting star
streaked across the sky so fast.
“ Where are you going?” I asked.
There was no answer.
What am I supposed to do?
To cry or to sob?
Or just to swallow the exploded “bomb”
and pretend this was not true?
Every precious thing in our life
is as fragile as a shooting star.
When it’s gone, it’s gone forever.
This happens on and off.
But time flies; time heals.
