Pupils love hometown poems.

When I was a child, I always wondered how this winding road could be so long that it would never reach the end of the road. When I was a child, I always complained that this closed and crowded town was too small to see the end of the sky forever. When I was a child, I wanted to fly very much. I always feel that my family has tied my wings. I always feel that my dream is sealed by love, and I am always impatient. When I grow up, the roads and water in my hometown can only be recalled in my dreams. The city lights are bright, but the one that belongs to me is gone. The sky in the city is vast, but it lacks wings to shelter me from the wind and rain. The long road of my hometown, now that I think about it, is like a thread that binds the wandering heart of a wanderer. The city in my hometown, if covered with a shed, is the eternal spiritual refuge for wanderers.