Modern poems of subway people

No sun

Get sunlight from passengers' dust

Chu man Xin Tian

No rain and dew

Absorb rain from passengers' smiles.

Nourish a day

In the boiling porridge pot

Into ordinary salt.

Melt yourself

Cater to others

Staring at the deep black hole

Guarding the wandering dragon

Let the main roads of the city

Fresh blood flows freely.

The lights put the subway people's day and night

Printing and dyeing produce the same monotony and pallor.

Day after day

year after year

Be a girl who muddies the water again.

Walk into the platform again

Like flowers in early spring

Once again, the underground world

Dressed up as a passionate paradise

The old man suddenly woke up.

Fanghua no longer

Years have carved wrinkles on my forehead.

That sigh

That sympathetic face

Those hard days

Buried in the ground.

forever

No one will notice.