I wouldn't be so sad,
The pain dispersed in the wind after the rain,
Pale face I love in my heart,
The feeling of disappearing is a tribute to the past.
If I don't know you,
I wouldn't be so sad,
Sitting alone under the silent starry sky,
Lonely tears wet the darkness of the night,
This residual acacia is becoming clearer and clearer.
If I never fell in love with you,
I wouldn't be so sad,
If I knew I had to repay all the feelings you gave me,
Why bother to collect it carefully in the first place?
That elusive happiness,
You can't get what you want like a myth.
If I can let go of our love,
I will no longer be sad,
Get rid of the shackles that bind emotions,
Looking for the grassland of dreams,
The blooming smile released hope.
I'll end our story,
I'm no longer the hero in your sequel,
We are two lines crossing the intersection.
Looking back one day, I found that,
So we are so far apart. ......
If I had never met you,
I wouldn't be so sad,
Although there will be regrets,
Without sowing the seeds of abnormal love,
And then in the two worlds of two people,
Every flower blooms with happiness. ......
If modern poetry has never been a poem, if it has never met you.
How do you know there will be you like this in the world?
Let the world be noisy.
Just waiting for you to comfort yourself.
If I had never met you.
How can you understand the tenderness and poetry of love?
As time goes by, life rises and falls.
Just waiting for you to release your inner loneliness.
If I had never met you.
How can we understand that there is another self in the world?
The mountain is high and the road is far, and the smoke flows.
But it still warmed a meeting.
When the flowers bloomed that year, a casual look back.
A poetic encounter, blooming in the dancing time.
The drizzle slightly covered my shy face.
Beautiful as a dream, painted in a gorgeous season.
Today, I still remember the moment when I met you.
Trembling eyelashes are like an expectation.
Looking at the clouds, I remember the fragrance at that time.
In this faint sadness, I am full of pale and powerless thoughts.
When did you become a person in a story?
Life will still pull us apart.
You once said that the sky in May is extremely beautiful.
A spoony heart, the bottom of my heart is full of bitterness.
Acacia is always messy at the end of the pen.
Endless sadness, endless affection.
Love is dying, but pen and ink remain fragrant.
That sad feeling lingers on the tip of the pen.
Half sad, half bright.
Waiting for your green time.