Modern poetry from the heart

Modern Poetry from the Heart 1

You are the candle

Hard work burns into tears

You are the sun

Shining brightly in patches

You are a gardener

Sweat turns into flowers with a smile

You are...

Too many blessings

Too much halo and praise

I have carried too much baggage

I dare not slack off at all

For fear of blaspheming the sacred title of teacher

I must wait in class early in the morning

I must not be late for a minute when punching in and signing in

I must leave the school last

I am worried about whether every student gets home safely

I have to prepare lessons according to regulations

I have to deal with parents

My children’s Can your grades be excellent?

Have you reached the required number of homework assignments?

Always remember your home visit records

You should arrive at the class gate in advance for class

I have to wait on duty after class

Cleaning with my children at noon

I lie on the podium and want to sleep but still keep my children in my heart

No time to drink water

I didn’t feel like taking a lunch break

The students also cried out that they had lost their freedom

After returning home

I was exhausted both physically and mentally

But still There are a lot of housework at hand

Tired and tiring

Always looking forward to the end of the week as soon as possible

Having a good night's sleep

Looking at my family When I’m busy

Tears flow in my heart

My child beats my back diligently

I’m trying to see if I can take him to the park for a walk as promised

But I cruelly ignored it

Repent, regret

I chose to teach

I have to bear the responsibility and pain

My child

You are more conscious and sensible than others

Who allowed you to have a parent who is a teacher

However

I My son

Don’t be shy for me

The chalk and the podium are the same as you

They are my pride

I will sincerely wait for you With my students

Until old age

To old age modern poetry 2

Feeding a pot of smile

The charming season of spring

It left before you came

No one has the ability to make it come again

I just give you scattered scenes from old movies

I asked you to send Spring Festival couplets to the old courtyard

You put the pottery out of water

Let me put your ordinary thoughts

Ask me to suppress the rumors

Go to rescue the person who committed a crime in his dream

Support the dark night and walk into the Zen Ghost Valley

Use Liu Xuyang to talk

I only bring some Rain

Walk with you

Remember from negative lyricism

Exile in the eyes of the South

Be satisfied with self-control

Those who need a smile

Familiar local accent

You pretend to be from the north to the south

The expected rainy season

Repeatedly carving out the appearance of longing

There are gliding birds in the sky

There are painful ripples of frogs in the pond

You always look at each other with parallel eyes

Travel in silence

Always talk about the reverie of the south

It has the color of late osmanthus but no chill

But I always miss the twigs of my hometown

Have you been filled with green words

The misty rain passes through the heart

You stripped away the unfinished words

Fill your mobile phone with local accents

From a familiar reality to passing by a stranger

From a cup of tea to reread a dialect

But I can never taste the way it was before

Your thoughts are tired

A tree passes by your door

Retrieve the butterfly that landed on the beach

You put the letter in the corridor

Sitting opposite a glass of red wine

The whole room echoed

The bone-chilling voice

The land is far away and happiness grows

The jujube tree in the yard

The last hope should have fallen

The flowers you put in the vase are still blooming

The rainy season in Jiangnan is filled with your diary

But there is no sun talking to the moon

Today you put your tired prosperity

in the window and give it to you with a smile

The children brought by their mothers

Guarding a sick street

The echo from the poplar forest

The whole night that hurts you again

The murmurings that begin to melt

Entering the bottom page of the prophecy from the front of the night

Facing the arrogance from all directions

You taught me to read my fingers

Proofreading the light and cold of birth

Seeking remedies for the injured 20xx

We carry similar shadows

Going back and forth in a straight line

Crush the dark night sitting on the ground

No one has the confidence to follow

The wind that goes with us

I promise you to tell the process of sunrise and sunset

Skip the time to clean up the haze

Pile it in the backyard for your northward eyes

Prepare some apples and crops

Let the melting dreams

Grow Your Clothes Again Modern Poetry 3

I caress the dry trunk

The rugged scars and deformed body

The old branches and leaves are the voice of his heart

I listen to the cracking of the license plate

The squeezed numbers and the bent suspension

The ferocious face is My appreciation for him

I reach out to the flow of air

The flowing traffic, the rugged Malone

The noise of the city is my opinion of them

Time chokes me, restricting my intake of air.

I struggle, this is just a nightmarish and deserted fairy tale.

Destiny lets go, letting go of my love for the universe.

I sobbed, it was just a hesitant view of tears

Life is always in a hurry,

Life is always about death and life,

To survive or to perish

This is an eternal choice...