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Lower Secondary English essays

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Collecting Memories of the Passing Years
 
As time flows like water and life moves like a song, the ticking sound fades away and moments slip away. I stretch out my hand, hoping to hold onto them, even if only for a moment.

The first memories of carefree days are filled with joy. We played with our friends, basking in the adoring gaze of our families. We ran through the gentle breeze, swayed the willow branches, and watched rainbows after the rain. In the memories of those moments, the smiles of our friends shone like blooming flowers. I treasure those memories deeply, like a collector cherishing their first treasure.

Then we went to school with our backpacks, surrounded by warmth and the sound of books. We dashed across the playground, our pens dancing on paper, and our busy lives were filled with countless beautiful moments. With so many companions and guides, we embarked on the journey of life from autumn to summer. The red notice and red graduation certificate marked the beginning and the end. But the companions we met at the banquet of life remained there forever. The memories of school, the purest, most unforgettable, warmest, and most joyful moments, can never be erased.

I try to hold onto the fragments of life and memories. I try to collect the memories of the passing years. Life is like a long road made up of countless fragments of memories, and I hope to turn them into small pieces that can accompany me to faraway places. I can look back on them often, making the passing years seem to linger beside me for a while. And for something as warm yet indifferent as time, that's enough.

I reach out my hand to hold onto the memories of the passing years, collecting them in a museum called "heart." I will keep it open for a long time, refusing to let go even as I grow old.

I will never let go.
 
 

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Lower secondary English essays 1

 
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