What should I do?
The stolen 13 building in the garden,
The old man is terminally ill. ...
An old cat,
Lying in the corner of the windowsill,
The dirty body shook off the last trembling.
My mouth is watering,
Sitting on a stool by the lake,
Staring at a door that hasn't been opened for a long time.
In early summer, unknown flowers bloom,
Surrounded by many long-standing ideas.
The tragedy of the winding path has been staged and I am lying alone.
Waiting for catkins to fall into the tearful skirt.
(Tip 2: Express your feelings)
Where did I fall from this phoenix tree?
In which autumn dusk?
Oh! Did I really forget,
The blue sky and the tree-lined paths embedded in the fundus.
Where did I fall from this phoenix tree?
On which page of the poetry collection, as a bookmark?
Oh! I don't remember,
The long hair of the shawl and the smiling face when looking back.
Where I miss, I've been away from you for too long,
The dying dream has been diluted and dimmed.
Back under this tree, I really want to,
Specimen yourself, remove all the skin,
Quietly buried in a book.
(Tip 3: Narrator)
Because one day, suddenly,
I became a mess.
At that time, my ideal was reborn.
Then he became arrogant and fearless,
Like a fancy cock, I don't know,
Will be defeated in future battles.
Gave himself a nickname, called "poetry idiot",
Design a personal awkward mantra "shadow."
Holding a few philosophy books and wearing a pair of tall glasses,
Pretending to go in and out of the library all day.
I decided to write something to echo my name.
Whether it counts or not, it can't be a poem.
I am a fertile man, pregnant in October,
After a lot of hardships, I gave birth to my own child.
These children all look like me, one after another.
Everyone is shouting "freedom" and "ideal".
Of course, this is an example. Children is my poem.
There are no superb images or profound metaphors here.
(Tip 4: Image)
When I left, I asked you if you knew,
Will there be eagles in the future?
You put your heavy palm on my shoulder,
Wan'er smiled and woke me up several years later.
When I woke up, I made a diamond with my hands.
Put it on your chest and help your sad heart all night.
The darkness has passed, and those who have experienced the dying moment,
Draw oxygen from distant green forests.
26 floors, each floor is about 2.5m high.
Then I should watch it from an altitude of 65 meters.
I saw an old man in a blue khaki tunic suit.
Building a mountain with a hundred years of wisdom is a piece of cake.
And I, so barren in front of the prophet,
I can't even get in the door, and I lost my place to convert.
My old friend, where are you,
Do you have the same experience and desire for freedom?
(Tip 5: Metaphor)
My bone, at the moment it stopped growing,
Learned to worship an infinite upward force.
I used to be a water demon in the lake, trapped in the reflection of the tower,
The fragrance of spring mud and the singing of bluebirds saved me.
In return, I will write my life as a noble poem.
People with aphasia have a chaotic life.
The invaded head forgot the voice belonging to the race.
Please go back to my golden tone, according to my voice,
On the stormy deck, ready to go,
Listen to my command and sail to the country of freedom and ideal.
Don't miss this battle, young man,
We should fight for independent souls with our weapons.
Cold swings, timid horses,
The spiritual wilderness never smells of lunch,
The harvest in October is only for those who bleed.
(Manipulation 6: Symbol)
I look for it in myself,
Want to see where it is made,
When is the factory date?
And how long the shelf life will be.
I'm ashamed to find these answers,
Even afraid to look at the production workshop,
And unified operation on the pipeline.
I don't want to admit that mold is the mother,
I don't want to be labeled as hateful.
Am I a product? A certificate,
What is it?
Real life died tragically under the butcher's knife,
Puppets with similar faces dance together.
Shen Xin Fuzheng, an iron army in the new era,
It turned out to be just a bunch of soulless waste.