To youth - bedroom of childhood

Time fades away in silence, rendering us old, damaging the old house and bleaching the memory
Objects move away from the old house and find new shelter in a garbage heap, recycle station, or a Taobao shop
We set for school, the dormitory, and a new home after we’ve parted with the old house
with black and white TV programs strewn with snowflakes that are forever classic 
As we compete to grab an empty seat against our peers, a fight is inevitable   
and the sewing machine is ticking away, encouraging me to hastily complete my homework
while companions for a football match already have their head out of the window 
The Pechoin iron box strewn with tiny holes is used for raising silkworm
when the iron bracket of a cosmetic mirror has already become a slingshot
and the radio set has been tortured into a blurring state
The small bedroom is again the study, the washroom, the recreation room, and the workroom all rolled into one
as pleasure is not too crowded and happiness has nothing to do with the size of the room itself

For me of yesteryear, the playthings of old have all been lost in time
in which my memory is the end of a TV show that has not been fully covered after a blackout, yet the actors within it have passed away
memory is like the treasure box secretly buried in the courtyard, yet the house no longer belongs to me
who at this moment can only use software to recreate the bedroom as a memory