Self-created love poems

Walking late, leaving your eyes, the sadness of midnight is still fresh in your soul. Messenger, haggard; If you don't get drunk by drinking alone, first frost will destroy the cold tiles and tear the fur. The cold of the long night invades the thin clothes, mourning the first autumn in the world. Yellow leaves withered like tears, frosty white; The night wind is noisy and the dust moans! How many times have you been drunk by gently pulling the purple curtain in front of the tree lamp? Millennium flowers hook the autumn moon, sad! He recalls his love affair in the past year, and it is difficult to change his material. He was speechless and burst into tears!