The day before yesterday, it was snowing.
800 children's bodies were found last night.
More than 800 species,
In the newspaper "City News"
Occupy a small corner of the space.
Without a name,
No age,
No place of origin,
Even the appearance and place of freezing to death
Without any description or explanation.
Such social news,
Slip away from sb.
It's over,
Earn a few sighs at most;
What people like to appreciate is:
Girls are raped, spiders with heads, two-headed babies,
The news that the robbers killed or were killed.
Your death
It's as quiet and tasteless as your life.
Dude, you people,
Before spring comes,
Hunger and cold
And then all of a sudden kill vitality.
Where are you from?
From the battlefield where the shirt fires from the inside?
From barren land?
Did you come with your parents?
In the hope of coming back from the dead,
Become this "the largest city in East Asia".
You are lost in the maze of foreign buildings,
You drool in the aroma of vacuum,
The loud voice drowned your wailing,
Conscience rusts here.
Your stinking face,
Tell adults and ladies to avoid when they see it,
Your trembling body and voice,
Get more supercilious look and scolding than pity;
Shanghai is very big,
Warm,
Bright,
Rich.
What about you?
But attacked by hunger and cold,
Retreat to the dark corner,
With an empty stomach and teeth ringing. ...
Northwest wind at night
Raise the snow,
Your body
Like a thermometer.
Drop by drop,
Finally dropped to the zero degree of life!
You're dead,
More than 800 people are like a date.
With the same despair,
Die together overnight!
I know you don't want to die,
You tried to resist,
But from a pale imagination
Can't catch hope.
Making weapons,
Naked,
Naked heart,
Soon swallowed up by human cold.
knock down
In this cannibal society,
You used to be
Live for a while,
Where did you die?
Even where;
I hate those philanthropists,
After I died, I collected your bodies everywhere.
Let your body
On the land of three bodies
Stay forever!
Tell scientists who invented heating.
When I walked by,
Take a look:
Stop the tycoons' chartered cars,
Let them vomit twice;
Let de miss de mode set foot on it.
Let out a cry,
Let these bodies bleed and fester,
Mix the smell in
In the breath of big Shanghai.
Shanghai1February 6, 947