Loneliness in the prime of life
The sail of the heart.
The light that can't fall.
will go to ** to leave a lonely shadow in the world.
The smart evening breeze and flying cars are everywhere.
Over the city. It's a distant countryside.
People are manipulating in the control room.
A grumbling and depressed machine.
Between the projection and the giant screen – the world becomes strange.
It's as if your fingertips are touching the clouds.
Fly slowly. And I rowed into the twilight.
Loneliness in the prime of lifeMight as well.
You enjoy every ebb and flow, sunrise and moon dive.
And I engraved it word by word on paper.
Future resume.
Loneliness in the prime of lifeDon't be afraid.
The rest of the rivers and seas, a cloud of smoke and rain.
The ancients - we have gone through thousands of years.
In the cold, I covered the blood and wounds.
Struggling in history.
The hand that was raised high - like a torch.
Nobody knows. The light that can't fall - polishing oneself day and night.
Under the moonlight, under the lamp, under the small window.
Loneliness in the prime of lifeWhence.
It was the silver frost that knotted on the path of the morning light.
It's your frosty eyes that wake up in wicker.
Gently swaying.
It's the story that sinks to the bottom.
The aroma spread.
Spread - the solitude of the prosperous age.
Why not. In the dotted and brilliant lights.
Allow me to be alone.
In the morning and twilight, looking forward to the eyes.
Say goodbye to the passers-by who have withered away.
Other. How can you hide love-
Only the butterflies that twinkle in the early morning know.
My shimmer. There are few butterfly shadows in the early morning.
Moss green
The sail of the heart.
It's like being inadvertently read by memory, revealing a touch of moss green in the cold.
It has listened to us, your dress in the wind.
We sat on the roof of the wind and watched like that.
You are quiet, shy, and your heart is like a stream, and I say little and pretend to be calm.
As we sit, the bamboo leaves fall like dust.
If so. It's just forever, how good it is.
Cherish the bright moon for thousands of miles, the night wind and snow, did not win your heart.
Pity, pity, pity, pity......
It is a pity to toss and turn for a lifetime, and at the end of the song, I fall into a dream, and I sigh that the glass is fragile, and the texture is difficult to flat.
Sigh, sigh, sigh......
Knowing is that the love is separated by mountains and seas, and the mountains and seas are not flat.
It is known that the mountains and seas have been submerged, but the sea is still there.
You are like my most precious long letter in the world, locked deep in my heart.
There, it's a touch of moss, I knocked on the window of the world, the stars are scattered, only you come.
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.