稅務常見問題

No dreams the dream, the past has been rife
Infantile convulsion time, a while. The silence of the night, memory is like a page but the title page, lingering in the heart, fan Jiang inverted Haiti rehearsal once because of love and sad story. Memory seems to be a thin smoke, floating in the mind, not a departure point, long not to go.
Years such as day in, like water, wake up. In the vast sky, leaving only the lonely figure. With non - who do not know, crazy and stay only I alone bell. Regret deeply buried, shouldering the heavy memories, life alone alone alone.
The vast earth, where you belong. I think of you the end, you alone, heart burst of grief. How many story much mood, as the day, deep in the memory deep place, into silence.
Is the cloud, fog, or a dream? Smoke past, looking back, no dreams the dream, the past is gone with the wind.
Life is but a dream. All said, had Yongmeng attitude towards life, but never make up for the regret got soul.
Pain days away from me, the pain of the heart is difficult to cure. In tears after reading the mixed with your memory, felt very real horizon distance.
I have heavy pay, but no results. Now, I am calm water. With a sad, looking back, looking back, only their own.
The rain stretches of the season, the same day, as the rain, not the same as the heart, is unable to replicate the original you.
Sometimes the heart always have a touch of sad, because you never know, you will leave the campus, have a deep love for you and I.
You are my forever to be far away, I am you have forgotten the past.
Silent season, the language lost its color: the lonely years, waiting for the forgotten oath.
In all the story ended with vigour and vitality, you still you, I or me. In you all my own beautiful bright in the sky is still blue, belong to my own position is only the lonely and sad.
I know that you will bring you beautiful another story, but I just your youth diary a touch on lightly accident. I know I will learn to habit, macau company registrationlearn to let go, and tell you, I admit that I just in your life a chance. But, I can be so indifferent? Still waiting in the bent on pain, in the rain for your memory?
The messy, flowers fall, in the waning hours, who will be worried sent to the moon in the moon, who struggled to hold on to the past, incorrigible obsession?
Time is like the convulsion of the yellow leaves, the treetop, lightly dancing will see evidence of people's distress everywhere memories carved into the late autumn season, swaying in the shadows.
Through the gray misty day, only to find the trajectory of youth has been unable to identify, everything has the geese had no trace.
Were just seasons still leisurely, since you left,Samoa Company the sky is full is the rainy season, the heart is doomed not to have the other side of wandering, I let the tear was most incisive in no wind and rain, waiting in the rainy season in grief.
Today also played a drizzle lightly, when I walk in the rain that loves pain interlaced mood again, let the rain and tears wet cheeks, low v. my desire pendulum cannot, my memory on the painted screen and add a figment of long helpless and sad!
Looking back, his eyes blurred, dream is not a dream, the past has been rife. In the past, let the wind take away, can heal those bottomless!