Write a poem about the wind

The wind carves trees in the forest, and the trees are lush. Occasionally play a temper and stir up the shadows of the trees. When the wind blows, the tip of the blade is clear and crystal-clear, hanging on the tip of the blade, reflecting the whole fresh sky, sitting on a wooden chair with a roll of old books, gently stroking my face and flying around me, evacuating the siltation in my heart and blowing a flying heart? 2 15 The wind said that I fell in love with your tenderness.

But don't give it too much load.

The wind said it wanted to walk around.

When did you look back and say you were not sure?

For whom to stay, for whom to wait.

Whose frown is tight?

For whom you are lonely, for whom you shed tears.

Who made you so sad?

In fact, love is not always like this.

In a trance, over and over again.

The wind is unpredictable

Why do you care how long I will love you?

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wind

The autumn wind is bleak,

I can't help feeling.

Looking into the distance,

Inner fluctuations,

A breeze,

Arouse thinking,

A little sad,

In the past,

It's hard to turn back.

The wind is still blowing,

My heart is in turmoil,

Swing,

Break the waves with the wind,

Go ahead.

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On the horizon? By the window? By the lake

On the endless grassland

You're smart? Flowing in the world of mortals

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Have you ever sent fragments of flowers? You let the branches fall off.

Have you ever seen the majestic mountains? Have you ever felt the waves of the sea?

Have you ever embraced the complexity of a day? You have seen the photos of the night.

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You never stop? A flash in the pan

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You touched my hand? But I can't catch your sudden face.

You kissed my side face? I can't feel your brief lingering.

You disappeared before my eyes? I can only see fallen leaves.

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You always existed? At the moment when I quietly remembered.

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I wrote a song specifically for your question? I'm sorry if I didn't give you extra points.

Oh, dear! I didn't find it. When did you become so poetic? ! ! ! It is not simple. Oh, it's not a lie. I sit down, sit down. Blowing the wind, longing for the road you have never walked and the scenery you have never seen. I stand, stand, let the wind touch my eyes, let the wind wrinkle my dreams. But the wind must say that I have never been here, but it must say that I have nothing. But the wind, the wind that doesn't lie, I'm standing on an island that no one has been to ... (live 120 words.