Flower tears

I am a flower, a flower that people love, although I should be happy and proud of it, but I cried that our flowers have been working hard to open up, purify the air, and strive to contribute to greening. Because we have always used this to prove our existence. However, people never care for us, don't believe? Look at it:

2009-10-11 A group of sweet-scented osmanthus was thrown after being picked.

2009-10-12 A chrysanthemum was picked and worn on the head and died the next day.

2009-10-13 An unknown wild flower was picked and drunk its juice.

2009-10-14 .........

Whenever the wind conveys these bad news to me, I am both sympathetic and fearful. Compassion is the unfortunate encounter of these compatriots. The fear is that they will suffer such a bad luck.

I still remember Lin Daiyu, a girl who is sentimental, like a flower, and a month of shame. She loves us very much. She is buried for the falling flowers. Water funeral? No, she is afraid of soiling us. She buried her, let us "turn into spring mud to protect flowers." I don't understand why it is the same person. How is the difference so big?

A gust of wind caught the sorrow. My face sank and some of my compatriots died. This group of children, they sneaked over the wall, walked to the wildflowers, took them off, and ate a "sky girl"... my poor compatriots! I took this blood debt with hatred.

When do people not hurt us?

During the day, we dare not cry, afraid to be seen, can only bury our pain in the bottom of our hearts; at night, we burst into tears. If the next morning, you see the water droplets full of flowers, this is not dew, it is the tears we have not dried!

I am a flower, a flower that people love to see, although I am crying, but I believe that people's actions will make me laugh.

However, people never care for us, don't believe? Look at it: