Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Traditional stories - The composition of senior two is 500 words.

The composition of senior two is 500 words.

In normal study, work or life, everyone is familiar with composition. Composition is a comprehensive and creative speech activity. So, how to write a composition? The following are six 500-word senior two compositions I compiled for you, hoping to help you.

Senior two composition 500 words 1 senior two is a strange neuropathy. He practices fencing, but he is bent on becoming a novelist. At that time, when a man was writing, he muttered, women are really a great and incredible species.

It's really great that women can have children.

This is the top of Tianshan Mountain. You must be curious why the story happened here. Impossible, because my master is here and we can only be here, so the story can only happen here.

My master is Snow Girl. When she was young, many people called her auricularia. But I don't know why, I don't know when, she especially hates this name. Master has many legendary stories. She hasn't said anything, and we dare not ask more. Only the second brother often asks questions without thinking, providing material for his novel creation.

Master has never been married or given birth to a son and a half in her life. It is said that in the past, the tradition of Tianshan Mountain was that the lineal blood relatives inherited the status of Snow Girl. However, since Master had no daughter, she accepted me as a female apprentice, and since she trained me, she let me inherit the status of Snow Girl.

I also heard that there can't be men in Tianshan Snow Pavilion. But the second brother is an exception. You must want to ask me, where is your big brother? You know me, I don't know. I only know that when Master was young, the master elder brother once worshipped her as a teacher. It is a pity that I have never met him. Oh, I only know his name, Hu Geng.

Master spends most of her time in the dark snow pavilion and seldom goes out for a walk. I took the place of master's activities outside. At that time, I was picking up fallen bodhi leaves on the snowy mountain, and Master was watching me. His eyes seemed to fall into another space and his mouth exploded, just like when I was a child.

After entering junior high school, due to the strict requirements of the class teacher, we put all our energy into our study, and the fluttering skirt in our memory gradually blurred our impression. But on holidays, when I go shopping with my parents, I am always attracted by the beautiful skirts in the boutique room. They are no longer children's clothes, but women's clothes, fresh and elegant. However, the shadows of my childhood always produce a hazy fog, which separates my sight from them again and again until it disappears completely. Therefore, every time I stop for a few seconds with joy, my eyes are full of tears and I leave silently. Seeing my peers in formal dresses pass by me, my heart aches and my inferiority is more serious. I hate my O-legs. I tried again and again, but it didn't work. How can a girl who loves beauty endure such a blow all her life? !

Sometimes I wander around the mall with my father. If I meet a favorite skirt, he is always willing to design it for me in the future: "Baby, this skirt is really beautiful. I'll buy it for you when you go to college. I will dress you up beautifully in the future! " Because dad doesn't care much about my shortcomings, he always says so. At this time, I immediately changed my face and shouted, "I tell you, I don't like this broken skirt, so you don't have to buy anything in the future!" " What is your vision! "Then, the atmosphere became stiff, and we stopped talking to each other and moved on silently. At this moment, my heart is bleeding. In order to avoid this topic and this reality, I had to make an "unreasonable" language attack on my father. ...

I love skirts to the extreme, but I can't have them. Therefore, losing the right to beauty has become an eternal pain in my youth.

Writing 500 words and 3 words in senior two is one of my few hobbies. Since childhood, the article has been recognized and praised by teachers, which has become my habitual pride. However, why is my article repeatedly denied and overturned after entering the third grade? Whether intentionally or unintentionally, this composition has never been published again, but it has been repeatedly classified as "digression". My original confidence collapsed little by little, and my original patience began to wear away. I began to doubt myself, overthrow myself and deny my previous writing style and thoughts. Writing was once in the doldrums, and I thought: Is it because I have no love for writing that I can't write what I want to write? So, where did love go?

It is my habit to copy my favorite sentences over and over again, but since I couldn't write a satisfactory article, I never started writing again, and even the occasional essay on my mental journey was interrupted for a long time, until one day I unconsciously wrote on the draft paper: Youth with weeds is also safe. Suddenly wake up: can you deny your efforts without the approval of others? Of course not. When pieces of youthful words are spread out on paper, pieces of heartfelt words are written down by themselves in appropriate language, the feeling of satisfaction and enrichment has nothing to do with whether others agree or not. Isn't it enough for me to be myself, be happy, love myself and love words? Love never actually leaves.

Oh, so love has always been there!

When I write this article, I have found a lot of love and what I want, which is enough. It has nothing to do with interests and power. I am only looking for those small and warm moments, but a single spark is enough to start a prairie fire. Let's put an end to this love search for a while, and let these discovered loves accompany me through the next round of spring, summer, autumn and winter to accept the baptism of fate.

Oh, love is really coming!

The regular ticking sound of "tick-tock" ... "tick-tock" came from the clock on the wall, and the eternal melody echoed endlessly in this dark room, knocking my hearing again and again. The bright and soft light of the bright moon outside the window generously sent a ray of light through the gap of the curtain and shone on the clock on the wall. The clock on the wall shows the time is two in the morning. By this time, my aunt had gone to bed early. I, on the other hand, lay in bed and looked at the ceiling sleepless. This is another sleepless night. No matter how many days have passed, as long as you close your eyes, you will see the familiar and sad back. ...

Since I was a child, I like to stand outside the door, waiting for a slender figure to walk steadily through the flowers and come to me.

Every morning, he would make me a nutritious breakfast. Eating his breakfast, I feel that love with my heart, so warm. In people's eyes, he is a workaholic, leaving early and returning late. He has always been regarded as a man of steel. Now, in my eyes, he has an unknown tenderness.

Until one day, after breakfast, he whispered to me as usual: "I'm on a business trip." I stood outside the door and watched him go out to work with a smile. His neat military and police uniform exudes his tolerance of not being angry and threatening, which gives people a sense of admiration. Before getting on the bus, he smiled at me with a warm smile like sunshine, until his back gradually left, and I had a special feeling, but it was hard to describe.

That night, I waited for him to come back in the living room with a cake. Suddenly, the phone rang and I answered it. It was his colleague who called. His colleague's voice trembled and told him a heartbreaking news. Unfortunately, he died in the line of duty He died in a fierce struggle and gave his precious life to the society, but I lost him forever. The candles on the cake were ruthlessly blown out by the indifferent breeze.

Tonight is the night you leave. Although you are not here, I just want to say, "Happy birthday, Dad."

This sleepless night will be contained by the morning light; The sadness in my heart will be diluted by time. Night, no sleep.

I don't know why, but I have always been a person who is not very interested in music.

However, the charm of music is powerful. Even if you are not crazy about it, because of its diversity, delicacy and strength, music notation and timbre will always come into your mind inadvertently, letting you know the artistic conception of * * *.

Growing up, I didn't like many songs, and some of them were not popular. Maybe it's just a melody I overheard, or maybe it's because a TV story likes its episode.

I especially like the song "Stubborn" recently. Not because of the original song, but because of the cover of the lovely little angel, so I fell in love with the lyrics after listening to it several times.

Especially the sentence: "Even if you are disappointed, you can't despair!" Every time I hear it, I will subconsciously hum along with it, and my tone is very persistent.

I can't explain that emotion, just like subconsciously cheering myself up.

The song is called stubbornness, and the lyrics mention "Me and my proud stubbornness". I thought of my rebellious adolescence and my stubborn past. The lyrics of this song are easy to find.

Because I like it, I went to listen to the original song, which sounds just as good. However, compared with the cover of the cute little angel, I still think the version of the cute little angel looks better, probably because of the filter, but I don't deny that his voice is getting deeper and deeper. Perhaps because of the artist's identity, he can find the artistic conception in the lyrics, and his singing can make people feel the growth of a rebellious teenager.

Stubborn character is in many people's bones. Some people walk out of a different world with the right energy, and some people go astray and step into a gloomy world.

May our stubbornness have a clear direction. After the headwind, we can spread our wings and fly happily without despair.

The more anxious you are, the less you can find it. Only when you are calm can you hear its voice!

In this impetuous age, what we need is silence. Only when you are quiet can you find what you really need.

Father is impetuous, he is more impetuous than young people, but the child is calm, and he finds his inner voice in peace. People say that the world is too noisy, the world is too lively and life is too tired. How can we find peace and give the soul a quiet harbor?

There are many ways to bring us peace. Most of the time, you are calm. There is no great joy, no great sadness, and no major events in your life. But sometimes, you will get excited, just like the wind blowing through a calm lake, or falling a stone. But please don't forget to open the window, look at the pure blue sky and white clouds, feel the subtle wind, and then face the blue sky, white clouds and breeze. Or walking in court, watching bloom flowers fall and watching white clouds drift by; Or sitting in a chair and listening to beautiful music in the sun … these are all good ways to be quiet.

Calm down, we can see higher and farther things. The society is so noisy that most people lose their way, so they sink into the noise and muddle along. Most people only know how fast they can run, thinking that persistence will eventually win, but they have not learned to calm down and analyze their situation. It can be seen that success requires not only hard work, but also peace. Let your heart calm down and look at this impetuous world with a calm heart, and you will get what you want.

When you are working hard every day, have you ever wondered where you really went when we worked like this? Have we lost our peace and become impetuous for other things?