A bag is the one you

The life of people to go a long long way, a man go unavoidably will feel lonely and pace, so those who care for our people quietly help us back backpack, and take the good name rucksacks wisdom. We all the way walk, pick all the way, and not only in a backpack the love of parents, teachers care, the sincerity of the students, there are many many of our own to pick up, called the emotion of growth. Each people all have own backpack, each bag is each of you.
Thirty years old you saw it, or an irrepressible fell in love with it. Had good colour and lovely and lively ponies of collision, provoked a your inner circle ripple, you take it in a hurry, as from the time the light caught rushing past the robust foal. You start to appreciate, at the age of thirty, you still have the feelings of twenty years old, childlike seems to hold the cool breeze.
Three, you carry it, give it was named after the "dark horse", the hope you put into it, let a little shoulder shoulder it. You put the most trusted pen and paper inside, let the heart and "dark horse" into the vast knowledge as the sea, you put the delicious snacks inside, when idle is with good friends share the wonderful smell. Finally you finally arrives, university, you still carry it, your sunshine write in the eye, smile shine in the face, confident in "dark horse" shine.
A party press, congested city, flashy streets. You and the desire and carrying his beloved bag escape, a man silently walk on the way home, your hand touched on the bag love, as if touched his heart beating, suddenly feel my heart is full, head out of his face and the home of the warm yellow lights, you can speed up the steps, a full face of all is happiness.
A smile is enough to fascinating, but you don't because I was happy to fair face, do you believe that strength is eternal charm, just as you choose to wrap, low-key in all show the majestic demeanor, contracted in another hidden a scenery.