我们手足无措,我们无能为力,我们只能看着它像细沙一般从时光的指缝里滑落,我们只能看着。越抓越抓不住,越是回忆,越是迷茫……在北方这座寒冷的小城里,似乎完全用不到“阳春三月”这个词。北风肆虐地刮着,空气里到处充斥着尘土的味道。路上的人们行色匆匆,皱着眉头,拉紧衣袖。哪里还有一点初春的模样?而就在这样一个不像春天的春天里,我失去了自己最好的朋友。我们仍然肩并肩走在凌乱的街道上,我仍然说着那些似乎永远也说不完的话题。但我清楚, We can do nothing, we can do nothing, we can only watch it like the sand fell from the fingers of the time, we can only look. The more grasping the more catch, the more memories, the more confused ... ... In the north of this cold town, it seems completely useless “Spring March ” the word. North wind wreak havoc, the air is full of the smell of dust. People on the road hurry, frowning, tighten their sleeves. Where else is the look of early spring? And in such a spring unlike the spring, I lost my best friend. We are still walking side by side on the messy streets, and I still talk about topics that seem to never be spoken. But I know clearly