叫了一个夏天的蝉,也厌倦了歌唱;书桌前的日历越来越薄,距离我用彩色笔标注的那天越来越近。一周的狂补,还是赶不上时间的进度,浑身的酸痛伴着疲惫让人愈加想要放弃。“当——当——当——”爷爷的钟表敲了十一下,十一点了,睡吧,明天还要早起。“这一天,我发现,梦并不远,只要你踮起脚尖……”闹钟响了,再睡一分钟吧。就一分 Called a summer cicadas, tired of singing; the calendar in front of the desk was getting thinner and thinner, getting closer and closer to the day I marked with a colored pen. A week of mad make up, or catch up with the progress of time, the pain accompanied by tired people increasingly want to give up. “When - When - ” Grandpa’s clock knocked eleven, eleven o’clock, sleep, and get up early tomorrow. “This day, I found that the dream is not far, as long as you tiptoe ... ” alarm clock rang, then sleep for a minute. Just one point