Mom's hand
This is a violin.
Play is always appreciation.
With sincere singing.
When I was older.
Mom's hand
This is a piano.
The feeling of popping up is very helpless.
A sour sigh
in the future
When I grow up,
Mom's hand
It should be erhu.
It may be vicissitudes of life.
But a touching smile
After reading this topic, I feel that it is the homework of primary school students. Therefore, it is completely written in the inherent form of primary school poetry, hoping to help you. If not, please point it out.