Series of poems
One: dreams.
I have a dream.
As if the afternoon sun had left a mark on the desk.
Than a girl with a ponytail at the same table
Eyes staring at the blackboard should be crystal clear.
However, one day, the dream was shattered.
Can't see the slightest sign.
Only gray mist enveloped the quiet classroom.
A few sparrows circled in despair.
The girl lowered her head slowly.
I just looked at it.
Second: butterflies
A butterfly is dying in the corner.
Passing by, but turning a blind eye.
Light refracted through glass
Sting my lost eyes
I can't help asking myself:
When can I cross this wall full of cold and death?
Butterflies are still in their fragile dreams.
Picking incense
Third: diary.
Her diary recorded a passage about vilen.
A little girl gently lifted a sheep.
It's like holding a cloud
Two wolves emerged from the flowers.
A hideous tooth.
The other one made a harsh sound—
Just like the sound of a keyboard.
The little girl broke her finger.
Released the clouds and saw the stolen light.
Fourth: "If"
I have a feeling in my heart.
Press the repeat key—
If you paint innocence with a pen tip.
If you use your fist as a gesture of encouragement.
The dust covered with words has thorns.
Turn into a saw and saw off the dead vines and rotten wood in your heart.
Fifth: forgive.
Emptiness is intertwined with concreteness.
Under the entanglement, he bowed his head.
The dust is also quiet.
It has nothing to do with youth, vanity and decline.
The world should forgive the fall of a teenager.
Evil, and his profile.
Sixth: Quiet.
Fold a piece of white paper in half and stand in front of the table.
Half bright and half dark.
Plane and solid suddenly become harmonious.
I gently pushed it away.
Fall into the cylinder of light
The world is surprisingly calm.
As if nothing had happened.
Back when I first entered the campus.
Even the lesson plans in the teacher's hands have become blank.