Don't want a ride back to the winding path
Slowly and quietly, with a touch of beauty.
Paying for the ideal is still disorderly.
Do broken dreams have to persist?
Can you still have thoughts when you live like this?
The heart still stays, and time has long gone.
Walking 1000 miles a day is not enough to camel a few bags of things.
Shuttle figure, the world disdain care.
Wan Li Cantu left your sweat drops.
Breathe slowly at the foot of the mountain
By the way, the bags have to be piled up again
Life is too tired to rest.
I will go home one day.
The walking camel has a straw waiting for you
The resistance in the desert is small and powerless.
It's not that easy to wander the Jianghu.
Don't say you have a short temper.
Feel free!
The pain is in my heart.
Happiness is in my heart.
Sadness is in my heart.
Joy is in my heart.
Helpless in my heart
There lived a happy man.
Life needs optimism.
Although the dream was broken, it never left.
It's comfortable to fight fate.
I don't give up, this is giving up.
Listen to that straw
I will wait for you, too.
arbitrarily ...
Leisure modern poetry 2 I write some poems by hand.
Hand strike
It's the ancient music of my soul.
Everything I don't know
The rise of poetic rhythm
The spirit flowing in the ancient silence
Look at the stars in the distance
Like a beautiful fence.
Can't resist the edge of the network
My poem
Like a bass flute.
Not loud.
Just trying to find a hope.
Let people meditate in a hurry.
Leave a corner for reflection.
Connecting the curtain of history
My own confusion
Frozen in your heart
Make a call
But calling for the lost.
My poem
Pale and weak
Just give yourself a hymn.
Let your soul
Constantly enrich one's strength
Leisure modern poetry 3 roadside anthomaniac
Stop the girl from letting go
Force them to realize their wishes.
Modern poetry has reached this stage,
Really a poetry idiot,
Put irrelevant things
Piece together without involving
Leave infinite reverie,
Let others imagine-
It's like walking on a cliff bank that is completely out of the way.
I always thought my idea was closer to fearless.
However, farmers who dig the land
A porter who carries goods
A washed woman,
Only poems that live high,
Even a dung sweeper or a washerwoman.
Also have their own unique ideas.
Can I have enough breakfast tomorrow?
Have the winter cotton-padded clothes been mended?
Where is the child's future and hope?
This is their naked life.
Poems without troubles
I can't pin my soul on nothing.
In the face of poetic infatuation, such indecency
Let them cry.
Tell his wife, children and children.
Even if it's just picking up shit
We should also pass it on from generation to generation.
Write songs that belong to us
I don't know when I will think of you.
We have little contact.
You and I live in two cities.
It's not easy to meet once.
I want to cherish this reunion after such a long separation.
But I can't find the right word.
I can't say what's on my mind.
I had to smile and say some polite words.
In fact, I won't miss you many times after breaking up.
I missed you very much when I met you.
All emotions are confused.
Because for you,
I don't know how to face it.
Our own relationship is not clear.
You'd better show your charming smile.
But you can't see me. This is unnatural.
What am I avoiding?
I think I'm avoiding this embarrassing scene.
Meeting is a long-term expectation.
Expectation is an empty city without results.
I don't know when I will think of you.
Because missing is a casual thing.
Every time I miss you, I will recall the same picture.
One for you and one for me.
No one else has ever been involved.
It seems that I only know you.
The Road We've Traveled
Not even a passer-by
I only remember what happened between us.
There is a story between us.
The owner of the story is you or me.