1. A 500-word essay on "I can't help crying"

I can't help crying

The dark wind is blowing and the dark clouds are gathering. There were many pedestrians on the road, but with a few thunders, people dispersed. Even the leaves on the broken road fled with the wind. Only the whistling wind was eroding the earth, and the sand and dust were swirling. Dancing with the furious wind...

I leaned in front of the window, listening to the deafening shouts and curses next door. My heart was also chaotic with the wind. When did this endless noise happen? It's just over? I hung up my headphones, turned the volume up to the maximum, and became numb to my parents' noise. Although there was only the quiet music in my ears at this time, my heart still stopped at those noisy voices, and tears couldn't help but burst out, for this fragile family, for the injured heart...

In the end, the noise drowned out all the sounds. As the heavy rain came, I chose to slam the door and leave, without caring about the anxious eyes behind me. I want to cry loudly, leaving behind those annoying scoldings, mother's cries, and father's scary scoldings. In this day with only tears and rain, the rain ruthlessly hits my body and slides down my cheeks. When it comes to my mouth, there is a general bitterness, mixed with tears. The little birds on the tree huddled up in their nests and chirped, as if they were mocking me for not having a sheltered home for them. A few leaves were fluttering in the air, being beaten by the rain. Without the tree, who can it rely on?

No matter how loud the rain was, it could not cover up the coughing behind me. I looked back and saw that it was my father. When he saw me turning around, he quickly turned around. That lonely figure must be a sign of disappointment for her daughter. It turned out that my father no longer had the high spirits of the past. I grew up gradually, and he also aged slowly. His faltering steps, vicissitudes of life, and silky wrinkles...are all his love!

I wiped away my tears and ran home. I saw my favorite chestnuts placed on the table, it was my mother! Use those old hands to peel them off one by one. These are all the love for my daughter. How many details of love are there that I am slowly ignoring, perhaps too many to be described.

The leaves fell with the footsteps of the wind and fell to the ground. It turns out that the remaining leaves rely on the earth! And home will always be my support.

Tears couldn't help but flow out. It reminds me of the beauty of home in my memories... 2. I can’t help crying 600 Composition

I always like to be alone and listen to the indifferent and endless ticking of the pendulum. The surging melody of life ripples in the silent room. Loneliness is also a kind of enjoyment, but it is not entirely because of this. More importantly, it can hold many beautiful memories.

When I was a child, I liked to cry, and the bursts of tears could focus my father's attention every time. I also like to fly kites, and these two hobbies are closely connected. When I cried, my father first comforted me, and then took me out to fly the kite. There is no point in flying a kite alone. I think only my father holding my little hand and running under the vast sky will know what happiness is like. Even though I fell down every time, I still kept laughing.

I like that kind of free flying, and I also like that kind of "highly influential" crying. I often think that childhood is the happiest time. However, this happiness could not last long, just like a kite, urged by the wind, it fell into the sea of ??clouds. ——A kite with a broken string will only cause another cry.

The clock is ticking, and the rushing melody is breathtakingly fast. In a blink of an eye, I am going to school, on the days when the kite string is broken. The river of time rushed me to the other side, and I saw that everyone seemed to be looking for something in this river, just like I was looking for the kite.

After that, my father never took me to fly a kite again, because I grew up. My father always said he was very busy. He took me there because he was afraid I would cry when I was a child. Now that I have grown up, it is no longer necessary.

Why? Do you have to be a child to win the love of adults? A clear liquid flows out of the eyes... I will only cry quietly, and will not open my mouth to make a "wow" sound like I did when I was a child. I don’t want to grow up, but what can I do?

So, I began to recall the scene of flying kites when I was a child, and what accompanied my memories was the clock that moved forward tirelessly.

The pendulum is ticking, and each tick marks the shortening of life by one second, marking the moment that nature has given each of us in our lives that is gone forever. I don’t want to grow up, not only because I don’t want to experience birth, old age, illness, and death, but also because I am attached to and hope to stay in the age of a toddler forever...

I don’t want to grow up, and an inexplicable sadness and sadness turn into tears on my face. The next stream of tears is accompanied by the clock that breaks the heart with its gloom.

Push back two years. I saw Laura in the library? Richard wrote "Looking for a Clock". He pondered for a long time, and tears fell on the paper: "Time will always go. Since we can't make it stay somewhere, then please find ways to use new and dynamic things. Come and enrich your life, maybe your memories will be more exciting. ”

To this day, I still like to listen to the pendulum alone. Although it is cold and unfeeling, it can bring back some good memories.

Occasionally, I will shed tears, and I will cry coldly with a reproachful tone.

I hope you can adopt it! ! (*^__^*) Hee hee... 3. Can't help crying composition

Before going to Cambodia during the summer vacation, I read through various introductions to Angkor Wat, and I was fascinated by the sunshine and exquisite temples there. I was full of expectations, but I didn’t expect that this trip to Angkor Wat in Cambodia would make me cry again and again.

Strolling along the paths of Angkor Angkor, the ground glows white under the scorching sun. The trees that were sparsely planted along the roadside were also wilted.

Tourists all wore sun hats and held parasols, fully equipped to admire the incomplete beauty of the stone carvings along the road. Suddenly, a childish hawking sound came to my ears: "I'm selling bracelets, I'm selling bracelets -" I saw a little girl about ten years old, holding a basket and hawking hard.

She walked up to us, first put her hands together to give a blessing, then raised the basket, carefully took out a few jewelry with her tanned little hands, tried hard to raise her tired head, and said sincerely English said: "Madam, these bracelets are handmade, exquisite and can match you." She turned her head and looked at me pleadingly: "Miss, buy one as a souvenir!" The aunt who was traveling with me asked: "Little girl, you don't go to school?" She replied in not fluent Chinese: "We only go to school for half a day, and we all go out to make money in the afternoon."

At this time, I noticed that her feet with blisters were not there If you wear shoes, you will definitely not be able to afford shoes. My mother said to me: "They are so poor because of the war."

At this time, a trace of sadness passed through my heart. It was the war that caused them to lose their happy school time. After we visited the stone carvings of Angkor Wat, we saw a scrawny old lady in white next to a mound selling "prayer circles" she had made to tourists.

She stretched out a pair of weather-beaten hands and carefully placed a trap on a foreigner's wrist, as if she was afraid of getting the foreigner's fair hands dirty. The foreigner gave her a few cents. The old man looked at the foreigner with grateful eyes and muttered something, as if to say: "Good people are safe."

Her mother came up and chatted with her (mother would in English), knowing that her son had been killed in the war, she was now alone, selling handicrafts to make ends meet. It is said that a lot of taxes have to be paid to the police every month. When I heard this, my nose felt sour and my throat was choked. She sent so many "prayer circles" but never sought happiness for herself.

On the way back to the hotel, we saw another special "scenery". There were five or six middle-aged men sitting in a wooden pavilion. Some of them had broken hands or legs. They all held a musical instrument and played for passers-by to ask for some money.

I was wondering, where did such a "disabled band" come from? A wooden sign next to the pavilion told me the answer. On the wooden sign, "Landmine Victims" was clearly written in Chinese, English, Japanese, and Korean. Oh, it turns out that they are victims of the war. Because of the war, they lost their ability to work. In order to support their families, they had to perform arts to survive.

A group of us stopped by the wooden pavilion, and the "disabled band" began to play music. The one with a disabled hand played the tuqin vigorously with his feet, the one without feet sat on the ground and played the erhu, and the blind one wearing sunglasses sang in the lead... Their performance was not exciting but very sad.

Looking at their seriousness, tears burst into my eyes. There is sympathy, pity, grief and indignation in these tears, and even more admiration.

Angkor Wat is beautiful. In front of a large body of water, the 1,500-year-old castle stands quietly and darkly in the center. Under the sunset, it is quiet and peaceful. This exotic beauty that transcends time and space makes people moved and amazed, while the poverty and war there make people cry even more.

My thoughts went back to more than 1,000 years ago, and I saw the great and vast Angkor being built; back to 1,500 years ago, it was the most important economic and trade center in the world... and the time turned to the 21st century. , Cambodia has gained hard-won peace, but traces of poverty are still left everywhere. I hope children there will no longer be out of school and disabled people will be taken care of.

I curse the war, and I admire the kind people of Angkor Wat. 4. Write a 400-word essay on "I Can't Help Crying"

Times have changed.

As time goes by, things change and people change. When we grow up, we suddenly look back on the past, and perhaps we know how to cherish it. When we accidentally touch the past, we can't help but cry.

Recalling the innocent and kind-hearted thirteen years old that day. On the bright land, a bicycle carries an ignorant boy.

They were pointing at the surrounding flowers and plants while riding. Suddenly, the bike tilted, and then there was a splash. The two bicycles came into close contact with the earth, and both teenagers fell to the ground. They stood up and dusted themselves off, with silly smiles on their faces. In the blink of an eye, everything was a dream. I couldn't help but sigh: Time flies like an arrow! I couldn't help but cry when I recalled this. Think back to the curious age of fourteen.

We stepped into a tense atmosphere, and the heavy homework weighed on us and made us breathless. Once, in order to ease my mood, my sister asked a question: "Are you a good person or a bad person?" "Good person!" I said firmly.

My sister asked again: "Why?" I debated with her, and one sentence among thousands of words was engraved in my heart: In fact, there is no indispensable between 'good people' and 'bad people' The gap to be crossed. We can never be purely good people, nor can we be completely bad people. Good and bad can coexist.

I couldn’t help but cry when I thought about this. Looking back at the confused and confused fifteen-year-old.

At the age of fifteen, I experienced a lot and changed a lot. When I was a rough and tumble person, all I could think about was playing; now that I am mature and steady, I concentrate on doing things every day.

I am friends with computers and televisions at home, and graphic novels at school. The smile on the teacher's face is gone, and the expectations on the parents' faces are gone.

Inadvertently, I touched my parents' bottom line. The anger in my mother's heart finally broke out, and I quarreled with her. At that time, I clearly saw the tears in the corners of my mother's eyes. I will remember that scene in my heart. I hope I have changed a lot now, and my goals have always been stored in my heart and never left.

When I was fifteen years old, I felt helpless in my studies, confused in life, and lonely in making friends. I have also changed because of this, and I am proud of who I was back then, because I have never lost myself! I couldn't help but cry when I saw this.

An innocent thirteen-year-old, a curious fourteen-year-old, and a confused fifteen-year-old. Every bit of it has been locked into a wooden box by me, and I have spent a long time sealing and imprisoning it.

But the long-lost key was accidentally found again. After touching it, I still couldn't help crying. 5. Write a 400-word essay on "I Can't Help Crying"

Times have changed. As time goes by, things change and people change. When we grow up, we suddenly look back on the past, and perhaps we know how to cherish it. When we accidentally touch the past, we can't help but cry.

Recalling the innocent and kind-hearted thirteen years old that day. On the bright land, a bicycle carries an ignorant boy. They were pointing at the surrounding flowers and plants while riding. Suddenly, the bike tilted, and then there was a splash. The two bicycles had a close contact with the earth. Both teenagers fell to the ground. They stood up and patted their bodies. There was a silly smile on my face, and in the blink of an eye, everything was a dream. I couldn't help but sigh: Time is like an arrow! I couldn't help but cry when I recalled this.

Think back to the curious age of fourteen. We stepped into a tense atmosphere, and the heavy homework weighed on us and made us breathless. Once, in order to ease my mood, my sister asked a question: "Are you a good person or a bad person?" "Good person!" I said firmly. My sister asked again: "Why?" So I debated with her, and one sentence among thousands of words was engraved in my heart: In fact, there is no insurmountable gap between "good guys" and "bad guys". We can never be purely good people, nor can we be completely bad people. Good and bad can coexist. I couldn't help but cry when I thought about this.

Looking back at the confused and doubtful fifteen years old. In my fifteen years, I have experienced a lot and changed a lot. When I was a rough and tumble person, all I could think about was playing; now that I am mature and steady, I concentrate on doing things every day. I was friends with computers and televisions at home and graphic novels at school. The smile on the teacher's face is gone, and the expectations on the parents' faces are gone. Inadvertently, I touched my parents' bottom line, and the anger in my mother's heart finally broke out. I quarreled with her. At that time, I clearly saw the tears in the corners of my mother's eyes. I will remember that scene in my heart. I hope I have changed a lot now, and my goals have always been stored in my heart and never left. When I was fifteen years old, I felt helpless in my studies, confused in life, and lonely in making friends. I have also changed because of this, and I am proud of who I was back then, because I have never lost myself! I couldn't help but cry when I saw this.

An innocent thirteen-year-old, a curious fourteen-year-old, and a confused fifteen-year-old. Every bit of it has been locked into a wooden box by me, and I have spent a long time sealing and imprisoning it. But he accidentally found the long-lost key again. After touching it, I still couldn't help crying. 6. Write a composition of no less than 600 words with the title "Can't help (crying)"

In the eyes of most people, laughing is a positive and optimistic attitude, while crying is a negative and pessimistic attitude.

In my eyes, laughter is our disguised appearance, and suffering is the truest emotion in our hearts. In the past few days, I read a book called "There is always a time when crying makes people grow instantly", which made me understand a lot of truths.

There is a sentence like "Tears are the last thing in the world that you don't need to hold back, because being strong is a kind of heart. Crying doesn't mean you are not strong. After crying, you can still stand up and understand yourself clearly. What kind of path should we take and what kind of things should we do to truly grow up? "I think it's right to say that sometimes we feel sad because of setbacks, sad because of our own situation, and cry because of other people's incomprehension. In the end you will realize that you have no choice but to be strong.

Sometimes when we watch TV, movies, or novels, we shed sad tears because of a certain plot, because the person in it is in a similar situation to you. We always complain about why God is so unfair, why I have to suffer so much, and why my life is so miserable.

Actually, do you know? It’s not that God is unfair, it’s not that he didn’t give it to you, it’s not that he thinks you don’t deserve it, it’s that you deserve better. The gifts God gives us sometimes appear in extremely cruel images. We have suffered, struggled feebly, cried hysterically, and then stood up again to give you a smile.

Until one day, you will know that there is always crying in life, which accompanies us to grow up. 7. Write a composition of no less than 600 words with the title "Can't help (crying)"

In the eyes of most people, laughing is a positive and optimistic attitude, while crying is a negative and pessimistic attitude. In my eyes, laughter is our disguised appearance, and suffering is the truest emotion in our hearts.

In the past few days, I read a book called "There is always a time when crying makes people grow instantly", which made me understand a lot of truths. There is a sentence like "Tears are the last thing in the world that need to be endured, because strength is a kind of heart. Love to cry does not mean that you are not strong. After crying, you can still stand up and understand clearly what kind of path you should take. "What kind of things can you do to truly grow up?" I think it's right.

Sometimes we feel sad because of setbacks, sad because of our own situation, and cry because of other people's incomprehension. In the end you will realize that you have no choice but to be strong.

Sometimes when we watch TV, movies, or novels, we shed sad tears because of a certain plot, because the person in it is in a similar situation to you. We always complain about why God is so unfair, why I have to suffer so much, and why my life is so miserable. Actually do you know? It’s not that God is unfair, it’s not that he didn’t give it to you, it’s not that he thinks you don’t deserve it, it’s that you deserve better. The gifts God gives us sometimes appear in extremely cruel images.

We have suffered pain, struggled feebly, cried hysterically, and then stood up again to give you a smile. Until one day, you will know that there is always crying in life, which accompanies us as we grow.