It was destroyed by the dawn on the horizon.
What a good piece of material.
It's day and night.
The moment of mutual possession
This is the dawn behind the broken metal wall.
An exposed crippled face.
I love you
I will never take it back.
The stove was crooked and the sun fell on the ridge.
Lonely enough to crack the ground
It's the wind
A blind postman goes deep into the center of the earth.
Its green blood
Eliminates all sounds, I believe.
If it takes away:
I love you
I will never take it back.
This is a song of the past, a string of dazzling bells.
It's the shackles of the river.
Play a small drum
It is your blue eyes and two suns.
drop from the sky
I love you
I will never take it back.
It's two hammers knocking in turn.
Fire from the same dream
The moon is as heavy as a bullet.
Sink our ship.
Mascara will stick to your face forever.
I love you
I will never take it back.
Everything is gone.
Expand into a river
This is a flame. Flame is another river.
The hook of eternal flame
Paws are up.
This is the shape of a flame
Break into stars
On the finger sticking out to continue burning is
I love you
I will never take it back.
It's modern poem 2. I am eager to be your reporter.
Interview you during the day
In the lonely light at night
Write your diary.
I am eager to be a journalist.
It's hard to interview your story.
Must rely on imagination
Keep a diary every day.
When will it melt in the rain?
When can I hold you in my arms?
Let you and me
Review your diary.
You are very beautiful.
Grab my nerve.
I'm obsessed with
Dream of you.
Really want to
Write you in your diary
Let me read it to you every day
It's modern poem 3. Who has so many stories hidden in his heart?
It's over, it's started, it's started, it's continued.
One performance is not enough.
Do it again.
Charming sigh
love
It is always the season of colorful leaves.
Regardless of the fullness and maturity around you.
fruit
You turned and smiled at me.
I am as happy as a child.
Run over and shake your hand.
It was cut off.
Surprise is a dream.
When I gently put the book under the pillow
Ever fantasized
You will hear the lyrics singing in your sleep.
They called my name softly.
Let me use a weak pen.
Take them to the fresh sunshine to breathe.
Smile foolishly
Just like when you first met me.
Those clean and bright smells
Dilute the bright and elegant sadness
Draw a vague trace, a vague sketch
What am I hiding?
I don't know
It may be a story or a negative film.
Maybe it's just a smell.
A feeling
Give me an opening remark.
I can also perform a story.
It better be really just a story.
Crying sincerely is in other people's stories.
weep
No one knows if my heart is broken.
Nobody!
Pretend to be calm
Waiting for the end of the story.
It is not necessarily love that is late.
There are other sentences that can send you to hell.
Reincarnated
Don't forget when drinking Meng Po Tang.
Leave a little saliva on the edge of the bowl.
That will be my afterlife.
Look for the only clue you can rely on.
It's raining in Mao Mao,
Gently telling the attachment to the sunny sun.
Gather the heat of summer,
Autumn spreads unconsciously.
Walking through the empty streets,
The fresh breeze relaxed people's mood.
Autumn rain,
Like frustrated love on the face, faint cold.
Occasionally there will be a few thunders.
Skimming the dazzling white light.
At this point, the raindrops change from small to large,
Urge people who are in a hurry.
Listening to raindrops flying around the umbrella,
Serenade a movement
The rain curtain shows the dark purple thoughts of the farmer's uncle.
The longing for a bumper harvest is floating in the wind.
The rain kept falling, splashing crystal cold water,
Hazy streets, lingering nights.
The sadness and melancholy of fallen leaves, coupled with people's shallow worries and faint sadness,
Immersed in the soil of autumn rain.
I open my arms,
I want to hold this drizzle in my heart.
Only to get wet,
Look at the autumn rain gently.
The lingering rain finally stopped,
Heaven and earth are so clear.
The faint chirping of autumn insects is dotted with sleepless nights.
Slowly transfer the breath of autumn to the boundless distance.
This is modern poetry. Let's leave now. No one needs to wait. The sun was polished.
Windows are bound to sweep away complicated roads.
Finally, the last leaf can't keep the treetops.
Grave diggers dug up their old roots.
Let's start where the tree can't see us.
Hide your fruit.
For no reason, you show your sadness like a stone.
Every direction points to the rain, your heart
Waiting for feathers to fall, except birds.
And a flock of winged beasts.
Bats chasing the sunset are dark dancers.
Their ancient holiness leads you.
Some villages you walked through became cities.
Some were destroyed in a lonely paradise.
Everyone who knew you is dead.
In the house you are familiar with, no door is open to you.
There is no need to look back this holiday.
You will have no love or hate for life.
On the night when half the moon was cut open.
Your eyes are clear with tears, which is the shadow of the wind.
When I went to Qiu Lai in summer, the temperature dropped rapidly, which calmed my fiery heart a lot. This is a modern poem.
Autumn is the harvest season. Look at the golden ocean, rice bent with laughter and persimmons in Huang Chengcheng.
Autumn is the season of love. Look at the crimson maple leaf, dyed red by deep love, and the yellowed diary.
Autumn is the season of missing. Look at the fallen leaves, the reluctant memories and the broken silk.
Autumn is the season for poets. Look at the poem in that article, it is the poet's infinite feelings, and the love and affection recorded on that page.
Night, deep. Sitting alone in front of the window, listening to the autumn wind blowing slowly outside the window, occasionally coming face to face, it is a kind of coolness, from head to toe. Looking at the cold moonlight shining in an unprecedented way, falling in the yard, with the fallen leaves, broken into pieces of silver light, just like Chang 'e's broken heart in the cold palace.
A neighbor's woman, who is only in her forties, is petite and capable, weak and strong, which is the deepest influence she left behind. Although we are neighbors, we haven't seen each other for a long time, and we are busy with our lives on weekdays. A few days ago, just a few days ago, I heard that she ran away, some said she was missing, and some even said she was dead. In the next two days, I heard that she did die. She left home at four o'clock in the morning of National Day and threw herself into the river.
Sometimes, news is better than no news. I didn't know why she committed suicide until later. She has found out the middle and late stage of lung cancer, and her husband's body has not left the medicine for a long time. It was she who supported this family, gave it the only sunshine, gave it the only warmth and hope, and gave her husband and children the reason and confidence to live!
She gave up treatment and chose the end of her life decisively and calmly. Her decisions and actions deeply shocked the mind of consciousness, just like the maple leaves falling in the autumn wind, silently, but also evoked infinite thoughts.
Her departure seemed heartless but affectionate. Her choice is that she loves this family, her husband and her children, just like leaves in autumn, which fall to the ground and turn into dirt.
It is often said that it is easier for the dead than for the living. But who knows it's hard to die? It is not just a kind of courage, but the love in my heart, the selfless love, the fearless love and the love for life.
Night, deeper. I don't know when it began to rain outside the window, but it dripped on the glass window and made a crisp sound. Is it the whining in autumn night? Is it a sad note written by the poet? Or the silent cry of losing loved ones?
Rain occasionally leaks into the window. The wet spots in the diary can't tell whether it is rain or tears.
Cherish it, the living. Life is like autumn, bearing hope and loss; Carrying love, but also carrying thoughts; It carries joy and sadness.
This is a modern poem "Parting"
The lunch break is quiet and beautiful.
Lounging on the sofa
Accompanied by the crisp and pleasant piano sound
Close your eyes slowly. ...
Whisper in your ear
Just like in the jungle.
There is a hut in the distance.
The yard is full of flowers.
This is my favorite little daisy.
Love you, remember.
This is rosemary in memory.
I'm going to put my childhood songs
With this rosemary
Weave into a beautiful wreath
Make you the cutest angel
I heard that you are the incarnation of Burtess.
She is the liveliest naughty boy in the forest.
By peeling off the petals one by one.
Meditate on love and not love in your heart.
I don't know when to start.
I began to like daisies.
That kind of faint parting and sadness
I like Miao Sai's poems.
I love nothing.
I only love what I know in my heart.
As long as I can see you, I will be satisfied.
Moonlight on the Lotus Pond is a modern poem.
Quietly rippling in the water
You have shoulder-length hair.
Wear a red skirt
Self diameter
Come along.
A gentle drizzle
Tanabata day
Wet the flower umbrella of Weaver Girl.
From then on, you
Also quietly walked into my heart.
Lotus pond moonlight
Reflect the beautiful image of long hair
It also reflects the tenderness in your eyes.
We used to hold an umbrella together in the rain.
We used to sing in the moonlight.
We used to admire flowers on strangers.
Yousui years
Floating life
Your long hair is already on Qixi.
Cut it to the weaver girl.
Your beautiful face over the years
Carving and grinding
Leave it to poetry
Now, your majesty
And that Chunzhen.
Precipitate in the rings of time
Happy life
A cold heart
Melt in a glass of wine
Hidden meditation
Every extraordinary life
Writing a legendary poem.
Our pen has grown from a small branch to a towering tree.
Round the dreams in our hearts.
And your sexy long hair.
It's already in the sky
Into a rainbow of seven colors.
Your poems and essays
Already in the moonlight
Turn into a starry sky
A quiet night
Looking at the picturesque world silently.
It's modern poetry. Hey, what's up?
Hey, this is mine.
Well, just you, are you qualified?
Me?
Hehe, it's me.
Drag?
No, people need posture to live.
Pretend?
Whatever you want.
I look up at the sky with my posture.
Count the first star from the left with your index finger.
Ah! Boy, you belong to the twentieth star today.
Stimulate artistic cells with alcohol and make excuses with decadence. What?
It is not that I am frivolous, but that I am still young.
Pretend to be feminine, extravagant and impetuous
Ah! Teenagers, do they say that about you?
oh
You have a gesture, and I can squint at your handsomeness.
Beating souls, swaying beliefs, and other interesting hobbies.
There is nothing I have. Nothing
I can't go back. That's great.
I don't want to go back. Life experience is such a one-way street, right?
Teenagers. I can't see the future. But you don't have to worry about me
He closed his eyes and smiled. He opens beer with his left hand, but he doesn't like you at all.
He has a gesture. You don't have to please him.
The boy told me with your handsome face
Tell me you're proud
The midsummer sunshine is just right.
Tomorrow's sky is only gray.
You are dressed beautifully today.
Teenagers. I know sesame seeds are actually very important.
Teenagers. As a matter of fact, I know that big things don't matter
Contradiction, rebellion, character
don't know why
You must polish it here.
It is the light in the window of modern poetry 10.
This is the sunset in summer.
Not without regret.
But it hurts to think about it.
Unfinished words
Put it on your lips and it will dry.
The direction of escape is not far away.
The distance between heart and heart
Farther and farther away from you
Houniao's wings can still carry
How powerful is love?
On the horizon.
I'm still waiting for you to come back
I haven't seen you for a long time
After leaving
A telephone line leads us.
Not separated by time
Actually, love is very simple.
Just love can't keep up with the distance.
I forgot love.
I left for love.
Just to stop thinking about your face.
The light in the window
It's a spark reflected by tears.
Not without missing.
But there's no need to use classics.
The other side of happiness
There will always be someone waiting.
The flower of love blooms.