Time and I are betting against each other
The watch of time is a mixed blessing.
Record my spring, summer, autumn and winter.
For some erroneous interpretations, snow.
Or cover it down.
Primitive, understandable destiny at first reading.
Frame it! Back to basics.
Time and I are betting against each other
Dead grass on rubble, plateau red.
Or sit back and relax, regardless of the north, the south, the east and the west.
Please run all the way. Ancient autumn water!
It's like a pipa half-covering the face.
Meat **, coinciding with loneliness.
It coincides with the spring water crossing the mountains.
will prolong a person in due course.
Lifespan ......Ah, friend, the Germans of the colonies also needed three meals a day
A million is too little.
It's simply not enough to buy a roast goose.
Life food is tasteless, but it is everywhere.
The food tastes good!
Chromophobia also, many things can't be bought.
Lack of food taste, when beak.
Swallow the sun and the moon, maybe the goose will tell.
It tastes so good. Ah, friend.
The Germans of the colonies, too.
Three meals a day also need the taste of mother.
Like the Frontline Express, such as.
Same as tsunami. Friend, I am a prisoner repatriated from the sea.
It's not a winner in life.
There weren't so many twists and turns.
A cigarette in the sunset, too high-end.
Unless the ribs are inserted.
Unless people never see each other.
What else is there but your love for me.
Produced after the farewell.
Hard wound ......Bleak
After writing a thousand and one stories.
And the sky darkened.
Those pots and pans that dragged the house.
In the downtown area, I don't know what to say.
Someone hooked shoulders and backs.
Live the little life you want to live, someone.
Foresightedly, put part of the family property.
Transferred to the suburbs.
Love is the piano, chess, calligraphy and painting that only the ancients played.
I don't know how much I missed.
Sunny and rainy nights. Upstairs.
Moans of disrepair.
That was the sin of the architect in the first place.
Without groaning, there is no poetry.
Those who make mistakes are geniuses, because the master is not obvious.
Only then did the fault change, changed.
The season I've always loved.
In those years, the years were shining.
How many talented and beautiful people, how many wonderful ones have been missed.
Time. ——If you are tired
I slept on the side of the road, sorting out the hard work of this life.
Yeju hung her head, like a doppelganger in a dream.
Truth be told, there's nothing left.
Dreams make people tired, even if they guard a palm mountain, what can they do.
The sound of breaking the air came in an instant.
The mountain was foggy.
It's not that there's a head hidden in the mountains.
Hungry sick tiger, if you are mixed with fatigue.
When dusk comes, my dear.
Even if you shout in the air, "Lao Ji is in wait."
Ambition is a thousand miles. "What can you do?
Shape. ——Author:Ye Xiaosong, born in 1964, screen name, Prometheus (fire thief), columnist of the Reading Sleep Poetry Society, and a good poet in poetry writing. Some of the poems are included in "Reading Sleep Poems: Spring Blossoms" and "Reading Sleep Poems: The Grass Grows and the Warbler Flies". The language of poetry is unique, the poetry is agile, and he is good at digging out the poetic soil and building the castle of poetry from the silhouette of life. Poetry has its own unique meaning and specialness, and has a certain degree of recognition.
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.