Poetry about the wind: 100 words.

Follow the wind, walk through the years of dreams, put spring in the sunshine of society, let the four things return to interpretation, embrace the earth, face the harmonious atmosphere of spring, make poetry beautiful, long and distant, and learn the blueprint of love for a lifetime from survival to death. I don't know if it's the wind or the years. Seagulls may have hidden yearning in this life, but they may not have a declaration, which is a deeper commitment. What hurts you is only the poet's tears and my helpless hope of falling out of love. The bleak language in my heart is that the faint wildfire burns the soul, the tears accumulate into salt, and the sleepless soul cries. How to wake you up from your dreams with sad songs and voices, hold a handful of dirt to cover your chest, and then smooth your feelings with hope and waiting. I hope it will help you, and hope to adopt it.