Even the feeling is meaningless modern poetry

This is September, the sun is visible

There may be clear wind in all gaps

Sitting on the street

Just sitting aimlessly like this

Not waiting for a person or a car

Not to praise a tree or a cloud

I just feel It's still early

Sitting here won't make you feel lonely

Dust is swirling in the light

Hours and moments suddenly seem great

Like singing Singing a solemn hymn

The melody stirred the wind

Ferrying in the middle of the lake

I became a blind admirer

Holding the oars willingly

Just wait until I grow old

A head full of silver threads

Build a tomb

Yes A child spread her hands out

Sitting on a chair and spinning

For a moment, I seemed to see her grow up

She had gone through everything she had to experience

How painful it must be

Only then did the eyes fall into chaos

The quicksand scattered in all directions, but its whereabouts are unknown

There is a peach blossom tree, which has been gone for too long< /p>

When we saw each other again, he was gone

I stayed alone until the sunset

The long shadow slowly curled up

None of them disappeared Traces

When I look at it again

she is still the same barefooted child