The story of a season when the west wind blows down
Shadow stands on the edge of freezing, regretting yesterday.
No temperature, no sound.
There is only one heartbeat flashing in the air.
The sad crystal goblet overflows the wine of time.
It's heartbreaking but extraordinarily beautiful.
Who wove a sunset-like wedding dress with a spinning wheel?
Let you be the last bride
Send you a girl without sadness.
Let life rise and fall
The paper boat of childhood has long been stranded.
Looking for dreams along the dry river
We are wandering dandelions.
Dancing lightly towards sea and the sky.
All the stories
Just the beginning
No ending
Second, youth.
All endings have been written.
All the tears have also flowed out.
I suddenly forgot what kind of beginning this was.
On that ancient summer day that is gone forever.
No matter how hard I pursue it,
Young you are just passing by.
And your smiling face is shallow.
Gradually disappeared into the mist after sunset.
Then open the yellow title page.
Fate has bound it badly.
I looked at it again and again, with tears in my eyes.
But I have to admit.
Youth is a book that is too hasty.
On the night of forty-five.
Suddenly I remembered her young eyes.
Think of the summer when she was sixteen.
Walking slowly towards him from the hillside.
The sunshine outside the forest is dazzling.
Her skirt is so white.
Remember that hill full of tea trees?
A cloudy sky
And cicadas in my ears.
In the silent forest
I love tonight.
Look back at the mountain road when you come.
Only to find that our days are over.
In a completely different way
I have been here and gone.
A vision so enthusiastically planned.
Such a blueprint drawn carefully and accurately.
I was so eager for youth.
But always
Never been here.
Third, "youth rain, heaven and earth"
1, in the morning
A cold day
Cold rain
In the cold air
Walk with those indifferent people
A cold day
Cold rain
In the cold air
Count how many cold people there are.
2, passers-by
youth
That's the only way
Inadvertently, youth won.
Silence again, the water is beating and drifting.
What comes and goes without a trace is the most beautiful story.
Legend of the years
When stories are condensed into memories
A seal is an eternal label.
3. Lake
Childhood imagination.
Dreams in Paradise Garden
Life is a magnificent garden.
Love is the brightest rose.
The future is blue and far away.
Rain in June and drought in July
Sprinkle water and bake at will
Once pure and plain water.
lonely
It's nine o'clock today.
My poem
Still floating on the lotus leaf, crystal clear
Tears in the sky
Has been hit hard on the ground.
My people
Wandering outside the window of heaven
begad
Sleeping in chains at Genting.
5. It won't be Don Quixote, will it
Through heaven
I'm just passing by.
Just myself.
Silence continued in the clearing.
Turn all corners.
Add another dress.
Take a sip of spring water.
Or a person
Fourth, "write to the youth"
If I have to remember.
Those good old days.
Why so many years?
There can only be one direction.
Like bauhinia.
Have a short fragrance.
Memorizable and unrecoverable
It is brighter than yesterday's sunshine.
When I deeply understand
Can't catch the skirts of time
There is nothing to splurge on.
There are only empty bags left.
Spend the rainy season under an umbrella
Please let me look back again.
Take a look at the ferry of youth
That young face
V. "Youth Essays"
If life is a poem, then youth is a poem in a poem.
Poetry in poetry, meaning is the essence of poetry.
Yes, youth is a poetic season, and youth is the most classic poem.
Youth is beautiful and colorful.
Youth left tears and laughter, happiness and emotion.
Youth is a complex and enduring poem, leaving a page of deepest memories for life.
I don't want to say anything more about youth.
I just want to say that in the season of poetry, everyone is a poet and everyone should write down this wonderful time in the language of poetry.
At this point, I believe I have done it, although perhaps the language of the poems I wrote in class is quite boring or green.
I hope everyone will leave more true feelings and sincere words in the youth guest book.
Sixth, "about youth"
I can't describe it. Years ago, the face of youth was crumbling.
Black and white on both sides of time are impermanent. Sneer, pure aggression.
Before going out, you must face the old shoes that pinch your feet as if nothing had happened.
Carrying the wind and frost, rolling up the rainy season, there is always mud seeping into the toes.
As for the ankle, it hurts inadvertently. A little unbearable
Sometimes we really want to ignore it. Know something about sharpness.
Avoid. Standing, staring, lying by the quicksand river.
Put the voice behind your back. Bury expectations, ideas and the future
A person's arms are warm. The earth is silent. Caress surge
Lick. Be taken away by water. You don't have to take back what you spilled.
And the night still opened his eyelids, and his hair was so thick.
Moths use light bulbs as containers. Such negligence made me
Sneak. Dew morning is just a myth, or it is red and swollen.
Classic. One of the mother's wedding urns was dirty and kept in my ear.
It seems that black silk is white and yellow. Then I stopped and finished.
There are always a few bugs that take the opportunity to get close and bite. Leave no scars
My blood has turned green again, and meridians have grown. Young carp beating
Beauty is dying. Seeing Rui's secret has nothing to do with Jingwei.
Coordinate accumulation and extension. A gesture, lonely and desolate.
The castle in the sunset is painted as a plane, and it is no longer eye-catching when the shadow is removed.