Sad prose poem about night: a quiet night, a quiet night.
The winter night is cold and white.
Several black lacquer leaves hung on it.
A stupid branch
The quiet and colorless night is obvious
In silence
Snow knelt on the ground with tears in her eyes.
The wind is cool tonight.
The clouds are very thin.
The moon is so dark again.
Blow away the boring air
Covered up all the unbearable
You can enjoy it yourself.
such person
tranquil night
Sad prose poem about night II: A night alone, a night alone, quiet and lonely.
Hold your shoulders tight and erect your heart wall.
Can you keep your vulnerability in your heart?
\\
Even if there is something more unbearable.
Can't run aground on endless thoughts in my heart.
Turn around, don't complain about joys and sorrows.
\\
If one day,
All the years have passed.
Can this dusty journey eventually turn into smoke?
\\
Memory of the past
How much attachment will you leave?
Is the oath already cold?
\\
If your life disappears in an instant
Who can remember? I had a lonely dream.
Have you walked through the window of the world? .....
Sad prose poem about the night: I am at night, thinking of you, and I am at night.
Miss you.
Avoid flashy crowds
Miss you.
You can see it here.
I should also be barren inside.
Because during the day, it seems
There is a wall.
It looks very tall.
And strong.
They don't even know
Sadness and chaos on the wall
I actually need the comfort of strength.
/
I'm at night
Miss you.
You can easily find it here.
All my joys and sorrows
But you don't need any mask to hide it.
I never regret thinking of you.
There will always be a kind of love with me.
Wander forward
Exceed again
Shake off poverty
I can still hear it here.
My breath
And my needs
I know what this is.
A bloody groan
/
I'm at night
Miss you.
Miss you and let me know myself.
Know how to cherish
This is not a romantic poem.
But an unforgettable relationship.
slow
My poetry
beyond words
give
The most straightforward mind
give
The whitest moonlight
Let me at night
The most direct thought of you
The most direct way to comfort yourself.
Sad prose poem about night 4: Melancholy is the night in a foreign land, and melancholy is the night in a foreign land.
Like weeping willows on the river bank,
Full of free eyes.
It seems that just yesterday,
Grandpa is still radiant.
Except grandpa,
I seem to have just discovered:
Tonight, the moon is full.
Unable to stop the sad tear drops,
I seem to see my girlfriend drifting gently.
I vaguely smell the faint fragrance of flowers,
It smells as good as yesterday.
Those naughty stars,
Still as shiny as yesterday.
My girlfriend is warm and kind,
As pleasant as yesterday.
I secretly looked at her innocent face,
Nervous and happy, it seems that this has just begun.
The first beat of the heart.
My young life,
It seems that it has just begun since then.
Sadly, it was a short childhood.
Just like that warm night.