Modern poems about farewell to elementary school

Graduation is a sad topic. This article will share a modern poem about farewell to primary school. Everyone is welcome to read it!

Part 1: Modern poem about farewell to primary school

< p> Flowers bloom, bringing bursts of fragrance;

The moon crescents, bringing wisps of tenderness;

Bells jingle, bringing the sound of separation;

p>

Let us set out on a sunny day and see who arrives earlier, because this place is no longer enough for us to grow up;

Let us fly with our wings and see who succeeds earlier, because this place has been installed Full of beautiful dreams.

Of course, you can also modify it.

Chapter 2: "The Years Go by"

Six years, what a memorable six years!

Remember that time we played in the corridor?

Remember that time we read aloud in the classroom?

Do you remember that time we stood solemnly on the playground?

All of this will no longer be possible.

That amiable teacher

Those innocent and lovely classmates

The teaching building full of our childhood

We all cherish our deepest gratitude Branded in my heart

The continuous spring rain, bit by bit, stirs up ripples of longing; the continuous spring rain, like threads, leads to our eternal alma mater!

Chapter 3: "My heart hurts so much at the moment of separation"

I am about to leave elementary school

Leaving elementary school

Me Don’t dare to face it

Nor do I want to face it

Listen to other people’s words

The moment of separation

My heart hurts. . . It hurts

It was as if I heard something breaking in my body

When facing the teacher

I said this in my heart hundreds and thousands of times

Teacher, you have worked hard

But I can’t say it for a long time

When facing my classmates

I want to hold her and cry together

But I could only sit quietly on the side

Looking at it

The tears flowed down

I don’t know when we graduated What will happen

But I know

I

My heart will hurt

What does it mean

I do I don’t understand

All my best friends

will leave me this summer

?

I hate this summer

When I finished writing

My heart really hurts

. . . . .