Poetry fills the heart.
Moisturize a season of sweet stories
In the last line of this poem, the rose is curled up.
Silently for bread
weep
Twenty Two
Wrapped in a kiss at night.
Sleeping in a poem covered with fallen leaves
At this moment, the rose symbolizes the luxury under the tulle skirt.
Wait quietly
happy
Seventy seven
A snow froze the past poems.
The smell of bread is getting old in my ears.
My eyes are blurred, but I have spread the broken rose petals in the past.
Just pray that love will sink into cholera.
freedom