I want to write a poem and a song for you.

Xiao Xiao: In this blooming season, you can hear the sound of flowers, but flower of life seems unwilling to be lonely, and the God of Nature seems unwilling to be silent. That loud noise is a heavy sigh of the earth, an angry roar of the mountains, and an impulse to flow back the river. Therefore, flower of life can only choose this way to bloom, bloom in the sky, look up, and we can see more flowers in the sky. That little morning glory must be a child's innocent and eager eyes for life. That fallen carnation may be the sudden departure of the old man. The unruly bamboo conveys the dedication of love and responsibility. The mountains and rivers shake, and every life trajectory may not draw the most beautiful arc, or even leave the deepest footprint. I saw tens of thousands of lives blooming in the sky of the motherland, praying for us and singing carols for China with angels. You are always brilliant in the airspace of the motherland, and your blood is spilled on the land of the motherland, which is your eternal brand. We pray for you, flower of life will be immortal, and the motherland will bloom in the world with the most beautiful posture. Yesterday, when I was awake, I dreamed that spring was really beautiful. There is no rain, and the stars are even more beautiful than the real spring I saw, but you have no time to look at me and can't tell which one is me. Which one is you? I want to write a poem for the teacher who died before you got old. Thank you for watering your child's future with your youth in your prime. Thank you for supporting the child's life with flesh and blood when the house collapsed. Just like your ideal in life, I want to write a poem for that dumb child before you have time to hurt. Thank you for your clear eyes and your constant laughter. May heaven be like earth. I will grow old when the spring blossoms, and you, eternal you, let me write a poem for you in spring, dedicate the flowers that have withered in advance to the earth, the swallowed stars to the son who lost you, and the lonely dead father to those who still live in our hearts after death ... to you.