Petals are struggling and attached.
Leave the flowers.
on hand
With dying hopes
Fall gently
The fragrance disappears after the wind blows and the rain falls.
How many dark sighs
look
Love brings romance and laughter.
takeoff
Fall into marriage
Ripple in the deep heart.
Slap slowly
A lingering whisper in the waves
How many drunk dreams?
feel
Marriage devours passion and tolerance.
Smash the trust
Improve clarity
Plunder the crumbling harmony.
Tear hard
The only warmth left
How many farewells
Dream/dream
Life is full of vicissitudes and helplessness.
wane to the close
Read sadness alone.
Shake and drag the broken memories.
Lie down quietly
Sleeping in the long river of years
How lonely
then
The heartbeat gently buckles loneliness and sadness.
Stay relaxed
Bloom with a smile
Shuttle through the floating dreams of the past
Die gradually
Carve into beautiful inscriptions
How many ghost images
Bury the most famous enterprise in Modern Poetry 2 County.
The most dazzling factory director in town
His elderly father.
Died in the twelfth month of this winter.
A construction contractor who came to offer condolences when he heard the news.
He remembers the construction project of the new factory.
Shopkeepers who came to offer condolences when they heard the news.
He calculated that the number of customers related to the factory would increase day by day.
The leaders of the development zone who came to mourn when they heard the news.
They took this as an opportunity.
Bulge up for tomorrow's wallet.
Beggars who came to pay their respects when they heard the news.
They took this as an opportunity.
For today's sumptuous lunch
Relatives and friends who came to mourn when they heard the news.
Appear like mushrooms after rain.
Some are for family.
Some come for personal gain.
Some people came to mourn the dead.
Some people come for the aura of the living.
The funeral procession formed a long line.
Funeral garlands form an ocean.
Firecrackers, music, unprecedented pomp.
What a pity!
These are all plays for the living.
The deceased was in a few wisps of white smoke
Say goodbye to ordinary life.
immediately
The director was heartbroken.
Cry for the loss of a loved one
Cry for the shortness of life
Cry for the disputes in the world.
The buried modern poem 3 is lost. cool
Lying quietly in the secular bed.
Cover with a light green sheet, and then
The living grass mourned for her.
Wind, open the dictionary of time.
Invite bees to pick up a string of the most beautiful words.
Sticking to the colorful wings of butterflies.
Eulogy, flowing in the stream
You left. My flower god
I can't express my sorrow for you in words anymore.
Because, this is your life.
Because your contribution is average.
I know that you have drunk the world with fragrance.
But I can't set an example for you in case you attract bees and butterflies.
I must stand on the laurel forever.
Set up an immortal monument lest anyone get lost.
The petals are gone, and I feel numb when I am alive.
Why can greatness only be written in eulogy?
A handful of dirt restored the nature of humor.
Or that touch of indifference can't represent spring.
One by one, the fairy left, only
Butterfly wings unfold an eternal elegy.
Even if the eulogy is made of honey.
Tasting is still not a taste.
Funeral with falling petals
Held under the old locust tree at the head of the village.
China Sophora japonica bud
I cried my head white.
The buried modern poem 4 wishes there was a person.
Spend the rest of your life with me.
I hope it's you.
But that's just imagination.
Just hope
Those clear memories
As if it were yesterday. ...
What time?
I'm starting to remember, too
Memories are just the past.
Recall those good memories of the past.
Do you?
All is you
Lie down and watch the beautiful sunset
From now on, this is just a promise.
Beautiful promise
A promise that no longer exists
irretrievable
Just because you
Because I still love you.
I never admit my infatuation.
That would make people think I'm stupid
Very crazy.
But this is for you.
I am willing to do anything.
Even die.
Because I still love you.
This is all in the past.
I'm going to end this myself
Have a funeral for it yourself.
For my first love.
For my lost "first love"
Hold a grand funeral
Bury it.
Bury the past
Let me forget the pain
And sadness
Forget you
The funeral of first love.
Buried Modern Poetry 5 Deciduous Butterfly
Like tears all over the sky
Whose thoughts have been precipitated?
Blinking is nostalgia.
I just want to kiss your face.
That memory
invade
Millennium tears
Hurt who?
Acacia sent a question and asked if it would come back.
Broken heart
Is it okay?
Can't love
Not sad
Only fear
Nobody's night
The long night gives birth to sadness and heartbroken
Your heart
What are you obsessed with?
Eyes are lonelier than moonlight.
That memory
Attack again
Every heart longs for the only one.
Many people are too crowded.
Remember your face.
Is my obsession with you.
come and go in haste
The sea sends mulberry fields.
Looking back, it is already a light year.
Forget the change of time
But you
Always in my heart.
Falling flowers are broken in my heart.
Your face is reflected in a trance.
The world of mortals is far away
Legendary poetry
Why on earth is it tender?
The sound of heartbreak
Bury my heart for love
sharpen a knife
One mountain, one water and one journey.
Don't let yourself wander around the world.
But the road is passing by.
Forget each other
Memories fade away.
How to hurt the nerve?
But fascinated.
Look at your figure.
Blurred my eyes.
Forgot the decision
you ...
Gradually
Blurred my vision.
Buried Modern Poetry 6 Deep Feelings and Shallow Fates
You know, we are like fireworks blooming at the same time in the night sky, standing on both sides of the long river of time, seeing each other's most beautiful moments, but unable to illuminate each other's lives.
Lots and lots of sad memories
Perhaps only forgetting is the last comfort.
But how can I forget you?
Memories moisten eyes so easily.
Is it really predestined?
Destined to be unfathomable, unfathomable.
Many nights, I was alone staring at the cold sky under the starlight.
Loneliness without memories is not true loneliness.
Keeping memories, but forgetting the original loneliness is the real loneliness.
A person, a dream.
If time could go back.
On a night alone, I will stick to the habit.
The sadness of the past continues to spread.
How to copy the happiness of nothingness
Sink your thoughts into the night.
Soaking night is colder.
Everything in the dream
Makes me feel so real.
Open Your Eyes
The eye is still cold ceiling.
Empty white
What is it telling me?
The scene in my dream reappeared before my eyes.
My eyes were wet, but I didn't leave tears.
I don't even have tears. ...
My ears still ring with the predictions my friends gave me.
Love is deep, but it hurts.
Unexpectedly, a sentence surprised me.
You and I stand on both sides of the mirror, and we can see each other's outstretched hands.
What you can touch is the cold wall.
Look at each other through the mirror
It looks close, but it's far away.
Time broke the memory, and black and white movies were in one place.
I can't dye the color, but I hide it in my heart.
Melodious music has been circulated for thousands of years.
Who is enlightening dusty memories?
How long has it been since I saw the marks made by those black strokes?
How long has it been since I read those sweet love stories and sighed sadly?
Love doesn't belong to me, and neither do I.
Where is my love at this moment?
Where is your heart at the moment?
I don't want to reminisce about the past and flash past those uncontrollable pictures in my old age.
I don't want my soul to look where we left.
Shed sad tears
I don't want my words to continue one desperate memory after another.
The end of love
Gorgeous and sad
The end of love
Empty and sad
It's not that I don't love you, believe me.
it's over
On such a warm afternoon
I think of you again.
Sadness and loneliness float in my eyes again.
Imagine what we would be like if you loved me.
But you belong to him after all.
Hmm. How interesting
Take a breath.
My thoughts are conveyed to you with the wind.
Dreams are always so beautiful.
Reality is always so ruthless.
Maybe one day we will finally be apart.
I will always let go of my thoughts.
Maybe I can't let go of loving you in my life.
But I won't let you see it again
You will be happier without me.
Lost you forever
What if I lose you and have the whole world?
When you are drunk, you know that the wine is strong; Love is the only way to know.
I love you.
But I can't show you any more.
The heart is still empty
what course to follow
Stand quietly where you have stood.
Staring at the sadness behind you
I want to hug you tightly with open arms.
But I gave up after all
Heart Good pain
On the world of mortals, you are still the deepest and most painful pain in my heart.
Continuation
more than once
Want to hold you in my arms
Let your tears fall on my shoulder
I want to cut off all the red dust and tears for you.
Pave a blue sky for you.
My love is only brave for you.
My love blooms only for you.
I love you.
The buried modern poem 7 goose feathers are like velvet, floating and heavy, and cold and cold. There is no rain in the deep courtyard, a spark, and the running water supports the hero. The rainy night is deep, a handful of quicksand and a handful of loneliness.
Flowers fly in the water garden, bows pick up fragments, and water is as charming. Cigarettes curl up in my heart, sparks smell fresh, a handful of yellow sand smoke, sorrow, sorrow, endless galleries.
Curled eyelashes, dry wind, dry eyes, white lips and black face.
Worried for thousands of years, the city wall falls off and misses, the ancient bridge section, the time is shallow, and the initial words are low.
Rain floats on the earth, smiling bitterly all night, folding a flying flower buried alone.
Strange white flowers are falling and fluttering, and it is suspected that winter has come to autumn.
The cypress is green, the birds are extinct, the butterflies rest quietly, the river stands still and lacks frogs, and people enjoy flowers.
Flowers and clothes fall to the ground, very charming, jade scattered green. Feathers flying, boundless, with a word and all kinds of love.
A leisurely scene, a distant heart, a hundred generations of breeze, countless feelings, sadness and intoxication have nothing to do with the body.
Clouds are blurred, I don't look at clouds, I look at Guangtian's endless scars, but I feel sad and groan, and I have been euphemistic for a lifetime.
Let the water drop hit obliquely, and now it is arrogant and hazy, overlapping with the person in front.
Gather words into songs, scatter words into sorrow, gather and disperse, and look forward to returning. First frost daisy, disturbing the world, lonely into a sentence, lonely as a poem. ...
Rain lane, rainy night flowers bloom, do not open, no one can speak for this situation.
Water drops help fire, a fire, residual love, smoke and rain, it is difficult to bury flowers.
A fragment, red eyes, painted face.
It hurts me to bury flowers on a rainy night.
The buried modern poetry is dark, the mountains and rivers are quiet, and the world is in the spring and autumn.
The road is long, the feelings are long, and you are worried in the middle of the night.
In a world of trance and confusion
Still dare not say how much I love you.
Because love needs courage to bear.
I can't afford anything.
It doesn't make any sense to spit it out from your mouth at this time.
One sentence can't express all the words.
Can't give you the happiness you want
If Zhicheng can melt you like ice
It should be to add a legend to the world.
Walking on the edge of ice and fire
I want to travel with you. ...
Accept the temptation of the soul
Why choose to escape?
If possible
Put all the resentment and resentment
Cast a sharp sword
The target is directed at you. ...
But I can't.
Maybe one day.
You remember the beauty in the world.
Turn around and repent
I have intentionally hurt people who have paid attention to myself. ...
Whenever I want to do it but I can't, I get angry.
Just keep a diary.
Remember that damn mood?
Draw a picture of gratitude against one's will
Calm hatred
But I can't get out of the magic field of love. ...
Bury modern poetry 9 bury all the glitz? Let me gallop ~
The noise of a bustling city
The neon color of night arrival
It's so beautiful that people are intoxicated in this era.
This city, saturated with matter, is about to rot.
A cigarette
White sand-to me, the legend is not old, although I have forgotten it.
A bottle of wine
Snowflakes-to me, my loyal friend, although I often abandon them.
I'm in the noise
Despise the glitz of smoke
I am in the neon color.
Taste the loneliness of alcohol entering the stomach
Just like everyone else.
I tried to praise it.
As usual.
I learned to follow.
The last trace of smoke cleared away.
find
My approval is not worth showing off.
The last bottle landed.
find
The flying debris scratched me.
So I bowed my head.
Look at the wound
No blood red
So I looked up.
Look at the sky
Tears are hazy
heart
What leaked out?
Touch by hand
Cold-full of blood
It turns out that the wound is not a scratch.
only
I forgot to admit it.
night
A little noisy
I can't find a hiding place.
you
Your departure
Take away my struggle against the world.
therefore
I hid.
But there is no place to throw away all the glitz.
So I have nowhere to hide.
I turned my head to the sky.
The color of the city
It seems that every urbanite will never see the true colors of the sky.
They forgot.
There is a color called blue.
but
I looked up at that moment.
see
over there
Obviously there is a way ~ ~!
Bury all the glitz
Let me gallop ~ ~!
Classic English: 2974 18909
At that time, when I looked at you, my sadness accumulated in my eyes; I knew you then, and I am willing to follow you all my life.
At that time, when I looked at you, my sadness accumulated in my eyes; I knew you at that time, and I would like to wander with you all my life; I loved you then, and I just wanted to wait for love: I was indifferent, but now I know clearly that I am still thinking about the past. ...
The sadness left by scene after scene
Between that moment and that scene, I don't know why my heart is always agitated, whether I want to have more or get too much. I feel that I have endless things to do every day, and my troubles are constant, but I can't be broad-minded and fat. I can only be thin, and I hate my weakness. If, if, nothing will happen, I have been expecting my heart to die completely, let all the pressure be released and live a good life ~
emphasize
Recall the footprints we walked together in the past.
Think about something crazy about her.
The corners of my eyes are slightly moist.
Blink of an eye for a year.
At that time, you were the one who cared most.
The smile you left when you graduated.
hardly
Far less than my sadness.
Walk around your seat in the classroom.
Breathe your long-lost breath
An unstoppable heartbeat
Cann't stop
I have that messy memory in my heart.
In this cold winter.
Fallen leaves will not fall.
autumn
Still spreading
love
Has been disconnected.
Selected Works of Writer Mu Ying
Love may depend on fate.
I heard a true love story the other day. A girl dated her boyfriend for many years, and then they went to work and went their separate ways.
They are not in the same city. Every time she calls, he says he is busy. The last time he told her that he liked someone else, he hung up.
She booked a plane ticket to his city at once, although it turned out that they broke up.
Actually, calm down and think about it. I always said I was trying to catch up. Actually, I didn't pay anything.
Besides getting up the courage to text him and call him to save him,
Besides writing an article telling him what he thinks,
Apart from asking him not to look back several times,
Others, what have I paid?
After all, I don't even have the courage to find him!
I haven't seen him once since we broke up, even when we broke up, even though I wanted to see him impulsively several times.
But after all, I still don't have the courage to the end. I didn't insist.
I dare not even ask him for information, only pretend to ask casually.
I keep saying that I have done a lot, but what have I done? Nothing, is it?
Maybe I'm not so firm, I can't touch him, I can't keep my love.
But this is love, is it by chasing? Is love achieved by a person's persistence?
Can love be happy by force? Didn't you say that love can't be forced?
Not that love is never pursued, but that what is yours is yours?
Hard to understand! Love is so fucking hard to understand! Love is not 1+ 1. I don't have the courage to make the most important decision.
Suiyuan! Let nature take its course, let nature take its course.
A lingering emotion
Sitting in the classroom, plugging in headphones, sad melody, wandering in the ear, heart involuntarily tears. Occasionally there will be sadness for no reason. Music sometimes affects people's minds. It reminds me of the past for no reason.
Little boy, loneliness is especially beautiful only when you miss it. Miss you, just a casual moment, at this time the scattered heart is invisibly tightened by you. I can't find your code name.
When the gray sky is full of scars and the sad breath begins to spread, what I can do is to keep myself busy and make myself look less desolate and lonely.
Staying at school, I just feel that I have left my status as a student, sitting in that desolate corner, watching them actively answer questions and smiling innocently. How can I describe it? Probably like a lotus that has not been polluted by the world, clean. I feel the atmosphere of the whole classroom beautifully, and suddenly I feel that my existence seems to have defiled a piece of pure land. Instantaneous sadness floats out from every gap in the ground, and I really want to vomit! But I still looked up at everyone stubbornly and proudly, and the picture was fixed at this moment, but I seemed a little out of place around them. Is it really just a little?
The cold wind blows very cold in winter. I squatted on the side of the road wrapped in clothes. The dim light shone on me, pulling out a long sad shadow. I suddenly wanted to cry, and then I announced to people all over the world that I was a bad girl!
What accompanies me most now belongs to insomnia. I'm so tired that I can't sleep no matter how hard I try. My heart is stored in the most desolate place.
I feel a little homesick. In this strange city, I lost my fulcrum, and I felt a little regret during the braking time. I scratched one cheek with a little sad tears, dripping in the deepest part of my heart, and my heart ached slightly. If there is no regret and sadness, there is only more comfort to soothe that broken heart.
I have been trying very hard to restrain myself and make myself look happy. As promised at the beginning, it turned out to be a mess and desolate. Sitting on the floor, the cold feeling spreads all over the body instantly and falls into reincarnation. The crazy pain in the head will erupt in the next moment. My memory is blank, the air seems to have solidified, and I can't breathe.
A sad and regretful dream is just a process, a memory that should not be there. Regret memories of those dreams will only make me more sad, but I can't find the direction of thinking, and I will only be confused again and again.
The next road, forget it; Forget it, it's time to let go, turn a corner and continue to the next stop. Be Big!
People like Qiu Hong have faith and things like spring dreams.
At this moment, above the autumn water and under the sky, it is the season when geese fly south and the leaves fall.
People are like Qiu Hong, and things are like spring dreams. I think of an article "Footprints" by Taiwan Province essayist Wang Dingjun. He said that after his death, his ghost always took the road he walked before his death and picked up the footprints he left in the mountains and lakes. From then on, he packed all his bags in this world and closed his account in Shi Yang. I don't know, however, how to clean up after death is like taking stock before death. The ancients retreated and thought about it. After all, they must set aside a few inches for some repairs on the road ahead. Therefore, it is better to take stock, think and think on the trip. After finishing up, continue the unfinished journey. Wouldn't it be better to travel light and fly freely?
At my age, even if it is far from the day when I collected footprints, I will soon enter middle age. Why don't you pick up the roads you have traveled, the things you have done, the people you have thought about, the injuries you have suffered and the mistakes you have made in the first half of your life? The healing of the healing, the end of the end, the correction of the correction. I can't fly around sick like that wild goose, crying tactfully.
What the geese are looking for is the time when the ears stand up in the autumn sound, the eyes stare and move to the warm south country inch by inch. ..... Think of some inexplicable pain, like rolling yellow sand, with tears in my eyes. It's sad that geese pluck their hair. ...