Youth Dream Poetry Recitation Draft 0 1 My Dream
AnnaSue
My dream is a stranded boat.
Skinny, chapped and tired
Mottled patent leather, a broken mast
White sea salt layer
It's tears flowing.
Many times, I also raised my sails.
Follow the call of the other side of the blue sea
Facing the future, full of expectations
But as short as a cigarette.
The roar of the wind and waves is like the carnival of wild animals.
Like one nightmare after another.
Full of holes, lingering.
My life is smoke floating everywhere.
My future is a bottomless black abyss.
A fragmented dream
Pieces of sad regret
My sadness was doomed ten thousand years ago:
An unyielding soul will always experience difficulties.
Don't hesitate to recite the manuscript of juvenile dream poems.
Pack some luggage
Take a dream and embark on a journey.
In order to become the beauty of butterflies.
nirvana and rebirth
anxious
Engrave the brand of hard work on life.
Youth melts in time.
It changes every day.
Life, walking in the sun
Brilliant day by day
Muddy ahead
You must share joys and sorrows.
I believe there are beautiful scenery not far away.
Youth Dream Poetry Recitation Draft 03 "Dreams Bloom on the Ruins"
Guyue Lake
The sky is still dark.
Like a gray heart that has not yet opened.
Last night's thrilling night rain
Wash away gloomy disappointment
Look at the ruins in front of me
I will pick it up slowly after the sun comes out.
See the seedlings on the broken tiles?
I was suddenly full of confidence.
Wait for the dark clouds to clear.
Waiting for the crow of dawn
Thin-winged butterflies flap their wings.
I witnessed its life.
This is an often dark wilderness.
The indifferent figure shows helpless loneliness.
Maybe it's a trick from a dark cloud.
Perhaps it stems from the preference of fate.
Sunshine seldom comes seriously.
Ye Fang is also very picky and unwilling to participate.
Occasionally, the mountain wind caresses the traces of desolation.
Sobbing seems to be mixed with unspeakable pain.
The voice of history has been recorded.
This once glorious paradise
at present
It's just a cycle of time
at present
This is just a forgotten ruin.
I don't know what year it is.
But it can't be too far.
Probably because of loneliness.
Still a butterfly
I can't bear to worship.
Or ambitious.
A gray cocoon unexpectedly appeared.
At the same time, new green leaves grew on the gravel.
Thought cocoons were just the impulse of moths to put out the fire
I thought that green leaf was just careless grass left by a greedy bird that sprouted inexplicably.
Thought the world would never see hope.
Think that the world will always be just ruins.
Who cares?
So everyone ignored the whispers that had been brought out in the mountain wind.
That is the only dream left in the ruins.
It is a dream that sends out its wishes.
Plant its last seed at will.
If fate has no intention of scanning this ruin,
It will shake its head to confirm.
Unless the power of dreams
Ruins are always just ruins.
When I finally waited until the dark clouds cleared again.
There is a small gap in the gray cocoon.
Pink buds spit out on the green leaves.
The crack gradually cracked and the skylight outside penetrated deeply.
Pink buds gradually expand and grow, emitting fragrance.
When a butterfly with thin wings flies.
The bud blossomed into a perfect flower.
Once a beautiful dream is sown, the water under the bridge
Hope only needs to see a glimmer of light.
The dark clouds have cleared.
The dream flowers on the ruins are graceful and touching.
So the fate of irreversible resistance.
All the land where dreams are sown has a gorgeous counterattack.
Don't worry about the ruins losing their luster.
Dreams are lost and forgotten hopes.
That careless seed can harvest a new spring.
Pupa is hope.
Green leaves are hope.
The ruins remain in our hearts forever.
There are ruins everywhere.
nothing but dreams