"树欲静而风不止，子欲养而亲不在"
We don't know how to appreciate things till they're taken away from us.
Yes, we write poems, we write letters, we write songs to put our appreciation into words so that they can be remembered. Sometimes these black alphabets help, but they ONLY put what's felt in the heart into materialistic words - there's more to it than just the tip of the iceberg. Some people come up to you and say "let's have a heart-to-heart talk". It's ironic, and no one ever realizes this very evident fact.
No matter how much we write or say, there is still the bottom of the wine glass, where the thickest, richest is left behind like the sediments of the riverbed; viscous and brittle - the most fragile, but the one that we cherish the most.
At the end of the day, only the heart can show - but how?
