A modern poem describing the wind has never been clearly seen by anyone.
Your pace
You come from your hometown, at dusk.
Put it on, the rations left by youth.
Walk out backwards.
Reminder, like a block
A patch without sizing.
Quick canvassing, heavy.
From another country, unknown
Hide it under your arm, it's caught.
Clues to a new life
Under the survival and convection
Spin like a buffalo
Escape in the desert
Thirst, mash
Fragments of the night, hallucinations
Guide lamp
Like an eagle, the wound falls.
Wuyachao camp
Philistinism and grandiosity are double-edged swords that shoot into the heart.
Flashing, intense lightning waves
Scrape off armed scales
Fish became bait for flies.
No one has ever seen it clearly
The trace of your drifting
It seems that all sadness and sadness are related to you.
Uncomfortable degree
come and go in haste
Maybe, just you.
hang on to
Take your temperature.
Knowing you, lonely and hurt.
It was looted.
Modern poetry describing the wind II. World affairs
Most of them follow the trend.
Rumors about the wind and smells related to the wind
Our sense of taste and smell, and our ears.
Even if your eyes are wide open.
You can't tell the truth from the fact.
Rumors come from far away and spread further.
Yellow jokes are very humorous.
Sadness or surprise
Flowers or dust
The true feelings and gossip of big and small people
Spread in the wind.
Smoke suppression one after another on land
A ship wandering in the ocean
Planes flying across the sky
Like a flying saucer.
Plus Trump's election
The wind came in waves.
Dishonest gossip
Fill our ears together
What often adds to our difficulties is
Axe grinder
Reverse black and white out of thin air.
You can make waves without wind.
Our eardrums have lost their elasticity
Speak against the wind
It may not be true.
I'll believe that when I see it.
But our eyes are too tired.
Leaves fall one by one.
What you see is not necessarily autumn.
Spreading the same pollen
Fresh fruit is full of skills.
The saliva of desire deceived us.
Pure and sweet, just the taste of childhood.
How many years have passed, and it is still the truest memory.
Chew everything we perceive.
But found
We are afraid of being in the wind and waves.
We are confused when it is calm.