愿望。

 

那天,我用凌乱的笔迹将愿望写在孔明灯上。

点起了烛火,燃起了那一点希望。

我的视线紧跟随着缓缓上升的孔明灯,

那星火越飘越小,最后消失在无际的夜空。

 

原来我竟傻傻地等待。

 

把希望寄托在愿望上,其实跟你用两块钱买一个希望没两样。

 

 

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