Time whispers on the maple leaves
Wen Huang Qingsu (Zhejiang).
The trees will grow old.
We're all a little dry.
There is no golden, purple, and red dance.
It's hard to sleep with a little rain in winter.
Memories stumble in the night.
The red trick has a declining day.
Frost and snow do not bring bad luck to life.
The most unintentional is known.
The meaning of the moon. The bell rings in everything.
And sprout the thoughts of the morning, the dreams of tomorrow.
Fate is far away in the twilight.
If you don't forget, there will be an echo.
Too late to say that the wish is buried in the roots.
Chaos
Wen Huang Qingsu (Zhejiang).
The night is sighing, and the mountains are whispering.
The shadows are raging.
Heaven and earth are treacherous.
Blocked in all directions, the road is cut off in all directions.
The heavens do not pity those who complain to themselves.
Without looking at you, God also closed the window.
The cold moon is the only light.
Clouds can't render the world temperature.
Correct yourself in purgatory.
Don't be harsh and steal in chaos.
On the way
Wen Huang Qingsu (Zhejiang).
Go, have to go.
Life is walking.
Don't think about the beautiful station.
Still owe a hypnotic song.
The heart is less reckless than the reckless.
Packing up and not talking about downfall.
Thousands of oddities are on the way.
I am fortunate to have my life.
Let the passers-by snub me.
Beware of the green-haired imp licking his lips.
It's a bad idea.
A treasure spot that everyone wants to find.
Just in front of the toe that arched the toe of the shoe.
Read the Sleep Poet Shooting.
Face the sea and look for the light with your black eyes. Founded on November 16, 2015, the Poetry Club takes "speaking for grassroots poets" as its mission and promoting the "spirit of poetry" as its purpose, that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, the spiritual pleasure of poetry, and the revelation of poetry to living life.