Poems describing the classroom

Although it is,

Some shacks,

Some old tables and chairs.

But usually a song is not finished,

Then a song started again.

Until today,

This song is still singing,

I just can't see you.

It's not what it used to be,

This kind of singing,

Ten thousand kinds of laughter,

Who treasures it?

Passing by,

It's a long way,

Who pity the prodigal son?

If you want to make a color book without paper,

Crush the broken pen.

How many things,

Has become a dream,

What are you talking about?

Less wood, no rice;

A bedroll,

A bundle of broken books,

Just trying to keep quiet.