Poems describing people from simple to complex.

teenagers don't know what it's like to worry, and they fall in love with floors.

fall in love with the next floor, and worry about adding new words.

now that I know the taste of sorrow, I want to talk about it.

I want to say I'm going to take a break, but I say it's a cool autumn.

Teenagers listen to the rain songs upstairs. The red candle is faint. Listening to the rain in the boat in the prime of life. The river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken geese are called the west wind.

now I'm listening to the rain monk. The temples are full of stars. Sorrow and joy are always ruthless. Before the next step, drop by drop until dawn