1, under the colorful bridge after the rain, the first time I met, the water fell out and the flowers blossomed, and the truth was affectionate. By the hedge, two mating butterflies blush, and a cloud touches you, the third button on your chest. A shy look makes me converge my youth. From now on, I love to put on a pomegranate skirt in every rainy season and meet you, waiting for me at the old address. Miss you, for the first time, touch you, day after day, let time run out of pent-up enthusiasm. Thinking of you, my trembling splits the lightning.
2. Change the format of a love letter and write a beautiful poem for you. The white stationery that can't be sent out dilutes the sad ink. Dandelion, scattered into a romantic past. The pen tip can no longer catch the dreamy white feather wings. Broken rain quietly wet the south of the Yangtze River, waking up the flowers in Taowu, my hometown. Grazing emotions, gently losing memory. The sound of falling flowers drowned the rippling spring pool. Like the watery moon, it turned into a tearful acacia. In the cold light and shadow, a heroic song poem was graceful and restrained.
3. Who will you chat with at the Christmas Eve party? Must be a lonely madman; What would you say? There is a dull fish sitting in an emotional temple, monotonous and repetitive. Candles are burning and long shadows are curled up. Not true, true. There must be a person who tells the truth, the soul of the log fish, who appears in loneliness. Who would cry like this and be so sad? And the madman who heard the truth was eaten. Joy, anger, sadness and joy have all become the wood of pillow dreams.