Lingling's modern poetry

It's already winter.

Fantasy flying snow

Stayed in the north

Autumn here is still bleak.

late night

The cold wind swept the broken branches.

Pierce the boundless night sky

In a big, dark hole

Several stars are sleeping.

I don't want to row in my dream.

The other shore is the world of flowers.

I stood at the door.

He has a bell in his hand.

wait for

Spring songs will be sung.

Winter is coming.

Yellow. In the woods.

Hide pedestrians

Smooth white clouds

As gentle as eyes.

At the crossroads

The wind won't stay.

The bell keeps ringing.

Watching you grow old

The new year is coming.

Your figure has been wandering.

The bell in memory.

tell me

There are still many bumpy roads ahead.

It's very stormy.

But what I remember in my heart is

There will be no light ahead.