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Poetry had a dream. The pebbles on the roadside in the distance, Sharing countless footsteps passing by its head, It still lay quietly. One day, a strong wind blew up and the pebbles were knocked back and forth. Countless sparks make up the flame, Restless between the distance and home. Between childhood and youth, melancholy. Wandering between reality and thought. I can't remember the story of the past, I only remember that this world belongs to a wonderful combination of words It is more of a flag-waving cry after the rise of ideas, Shakes another soul.

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The rainy season is here, the sky is covered by dark clouds, and another sky opens up

My distance is entwined with his dreams, making him stagger in the world, and sometimes fly with his own dreams!