Poetry of the middle class

A pile of short poems

(1) chalk

Ancient limestone was incinerated.

Thousands of years of history still emerge in its memory.

White body in front of us.

Inspire those who want to change history.

(2) Blackboard

Are you silent because the night never leaves?

The trace of a meteor is a hymn.

Although no one deliberately found your beauty, I know.

You can shake a light skirt and shake off the words that have been condensed for 5 thousand years.

Have you forgotten?

(3) the text of the application

There is a thick pile of immature handwriting on the desk.

Some dreams, when opened, have already flown happily.

The student wrote, I want to be a scientist, I want to be a doctor.

Another wrote, Teacher, I want to be a teacher.

The whole office is full of knowing smiles and pride.

(4) After school

Time has rung the bell for school.

Line up according to the class and stand at attention.

The headmaster issued an order on the podium.

Remember, don't forget the provisions of the student code.

Don't forget to grade your homework.

Don't forget.

Suddenly there was no figure on the playground.

Keep in love

Seedlings thrive in their hearts,

Work hard on campus.

Cream on black hair and sideburns,

The old horse has no complaints.

On the podium, the most nostalgic,

Full house, red face.

The yellow-billed eagle is fighting for food,

Spread your wings and fly into the blue sky in an instant.

Under the desk lamp, I am more nostalgic.

Draw a red line on the notebook in front of you.

The evening breeze is quiet and cicadas are singing,

Listen to the inner waves.

Thankfully, the altar is full of flowers.

Give a heartfelt sigh.

Old horseshoes won't stop,

Miss the campus beauty station ...

Your smiling face tells me that you are proud.

Your wrinkles tell me you love.

Your running figure tells me that you know how heavy your shoulders are.

You said: the revitalization of the motherland lies in education, and education is in my hands.

You said: a hundred years of practice is a ladder to play a role.

You said: the road to the blueprint is very difficult, and I would like to be the cornerstone of the road extension.

You said: Every student is the only one in the family. I have no choice but to go all the way.

You said: I will scrub the teacher's name with sweat.

You think, you argue, you blush,

You learn from it, you sum up, and you catch up with the rising sun.

You draw a tick, you write a comment, you are meticulous,

You care, you inspire, and your kindness comes to an end like the sunset.

You look out, your eyes are as deep as the dark night sky.

When you walk, your steps are as vigorous as a meteor.

If you meditate, the river will not work, the clouds will not go, and everything will be silent.

You look forward to the blue sky in June, with good news and fruitful results.

Who got up earlier than you and Qixing?

Who walks wider than the night shift workers and who walks more intensively at night?

You resolutely shut the immature call to the outhouse and let the midnight light make the next day's class lively.

You ran between the hospital and the classroom, and conquered the affection you had silently endured with a sonorous explanation.

You forgot your lover's birthday just to light a student's birthday candle.

You try your best to overcome the cold wind in winter and send greetings in spring to the dormitory without heating.

You postponed the second interview only because the final exam is coming.

You're not old, you're just wrinkled too early.

Your cheerful smiling face is often overshadowed by students' unsatisfactory grades.

Three sentences cannot be separated from students.

You shut the door, but you can never shut up your concern for the students.

The words in your dictionary are getting monotonous, and your life is not so bright.