There's good

A mentions the family wake up barriers on a winter of clear tears, tore off a net able to discern the wound. And LTBR > home is a heavy shell, we are carrying the snail shell, perhaps a lifetime all want to get rid of the heavy burden, but always do not understand the shell of the rain from day is how of beauty. I have been away from home this DuoRi man, only in the heart to MaSha home appliance ancient decorative pattern, imagining the black iron box cross the iron hook plum flower, the silver fan thick red paint gate, white walls and that haunted me life more than 10 years of violet aroma. At this time the ear as if there was a voice: my dear children, you'll have to wander how long? This is a kind and the voice of the long home. And LTBR > I don't know whether all the people are afraid to stay at home all day. Young I, when parents go out, although promised the lot of delicious food, still want to cry with go to. Children are probably cannot afford the house of bondage. Grow up at home instead of attachment day, that home every hour is good. And LTBR > recall this thing if have taste, you should is sweet, long and actions of the powerful. And the home never and the smell alone. The mother often sit impression of the sitting room that before the small courtyard through the window of a party shines in the sunlight and is next to her dog and her young daughter. I live in the neck stiff collar cotton-padded jacket, help mother wrapped around it, look at the sunshine of the dust mixed with is not capacious room and have another warm days baking. Father sitting on the patio of cany chair next to him, is planted cordate telosma and violets, he just cocked his head are reading a book, look calm and and content. This is he rarely leisure time. I looked at his father's face, a twinge of love almost stuffed with my whole chest to. Father reading voice across the yard, through the wind through the corridor, through my childhood all the time. Mother was attached to this time, she did not want me to leave the party sunshine. The only on the foot of the mother dog is at this time doing it in spring and autumn, and from time to time to dream the tongue lick out. And the youth and active, I partial driven to the very comfortable only ask for the hair of the dog, he pulled its ears. The dog were surprised, TengRan buck, knocked over the wool basket. My mother in the shouts of the chase in go out. After every mention it, she always say: I want to let you stay with me, but if you want to find your own life, I'm wouldn't stop you. And LTBR > I looked at the wall in one day afternoon the warm sunshine, brassy remembered long ago a distant understand autumn. I often like the swallow from the class as scattered hall of flying out of home, gallop. In blatant street looking for a mother figure. The setting sun is the wings of the time, it flies in a very gorgeous glow. I looked at her mother in back, shaking long ponytail hair black and sunshine golden tend to a people and touched of color. Blurred When life seems to be found belong, and find the feeling of home. I like this, in this piece of sunlight and mother along on the way home. The sunset we two shadow is very long. Although the memory far apart, but the autumn afternoon, I will never forget. Because that is the home, is in of taking the road home. And LTBR > I think attached to the house of will lose themselves in when he is ill. I closed my eyes to the scene when the youth a serious illness. Sister in the side hold my hand, encouragement for me. Mother in the busy busy for my father is in a towel, change the eyebrows, frowning side with anxious eyes looking at me. I nest in thick quilt, although the in suffering from the pains of, but I was a never had the calm and secure. Because I know, I'm at home, I have rely on, I am not a man, I am not lonely. And LTBR > home have a father, mother, sister, have I have attached to the flowers of the tree.