Under the umbrella In the drizzle and cold dusk
Let me guess you.
Let me guess your guitar music.
Your hand is very sad.
Sadly, there are hair tips passing through my dreams.
You come from far away.
Swan is produced in that place.
Your most beautiful part is the swan part.
That was a long time ago.
This is the worst morning in August.
In front of a pile of wheat straw in Huang Cancan
I met your eyes.
I miss your eyes.
Miss the usual meeting
Miss the inevitability after meeting.
It must be a part of guitar music.
But I'm too white to turn back.
I can only use guitar music.
Guess you slowly
You have a flower.
Opening a flower makes me feel your presence.
Note: This is a poem from my school days. I forgot who I wrote it for and who I wrote it for. There are traces of imitation, but it is also an expression. Expression is a right.