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I like half a cold watermelon in summer I like sweet strawberry popsicles in summer I like the brisk cicada singing in summer I like the gentle evening breeze by the river in summer I like the stars in the summer night sky But actually, what I like most is you spending the summer with me. In the afternoon, the sky is clear and white clouds bloom. Holding the cat in my arms, the puppy beside me is wagging its tail, Lying with you in the shade, The gentle breeze brings sweet dreams.

In the face of love, we often become the servants of love, serving love. When I first listened to "Wrong Love" by Ji Yanlin and Liu Zengtong, I heard We Once. It turns out that we have always been bound by that invisible dependence, so we hurt each other and suffered. Our ending is just like the lyrics, you turned to the left, and then what? I also turned to the right, and we said goodbye at the crossroads of life. But we also left a wonderful memory. And I plan to tell my friends how sharing is the wrong kind of love.

I imitate the ancients in reciting poems and composing poems. The ancient poems and short prose in each chapter are carefully created by me after thousands of days and nights. I hope everyone can support my works!

Keep the touch of life, discover the beauty of life, express aspirations and melancholy with poetry.

When people ask me how I feel, I answer: "In one word, I am happy. Other than that, I have no other thoughts."

To all the heroes fighting the epidemic... Heroes on Four Heaven Roads in April need to drive slowly

Stupidly recorded articles, memories of Gouzi, companionship is the most difficult thing to let go of.

Readers are welcome to read this four-character idiom story. Please forgive me if there are any similarities.

Real prose can not only penetrate people's hearts, but also open up a wise life. This article mainly describes the author's experience and past stories.

Some poems written by an ordinary high school student in his spare time.

I wrote a little poem to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the founding of Pudong.

On the other side of the soul, there are birds chirping and flowers fragrant, and the eyes are filled with meandering scenery. Whenever the heart is no longer calm, it will look for the other side of the soul. Here is a bridge built with exquisite language, a fortress piled with stories that have been passed down through the ages. The blue sky and white clouds transformed by vivid words are filled with the fragrance of books, and the breeze blows through my heart. Yearning for such a pure land of the soul.

Four o'clock in the morning I saw the begonia flower was still awake I always feel like this you should be by my side --Kawabata Yasunari, "Flowers Never Sleep"

Let me write some experiences, some that are embarrassing, some that can make others think I am stupid, and some that happened by coincidence. It is said that Aquarius has the most accurate intuition, and maybe it is true. At the same time, I am also a self-proclaimed poet and lyricist. I have written lyrics and can also write poems. I'm the type who's grumpy with those around me and mild-mannered with strangers. After all, I have been fond of words since I was a child, so I wrote a few poems and songs, so I am still a bit aloof and don't like places that are too lively. My story is not surprising. After all, my inner world is quite rich. One's principles must be defended with one's own strength. If you don't have the strength, why should others respect your principles? I hope this will happen one day. Hope everyone can too.

When you are dark, you still look up at the stars, But when you look up at the stars, will it still be dark?

Contains my own original poems and lyrics. Just to leave a mark that is unique to me in this bright world!

There is a kind of love called heart-to-heart connection between mother and child. There is a kind of love called blood connection.

Tell the story of your crisis in a fallen leaf, and how you finally entered the world of leaves

My poems and my stories. My dreams and my likes.

Life insights, medicine, and related subject knowledge.

What does osmanthus taste like? Do you carefully observe his every slight fluctuation?

These poems are all bits and pieces of my youth, lovesickness and people, sadness and people, laughter and people. . . , May the memory never fade. . .

Recording your thoughts and looking back is also a kind of beauty!

There are many things waiting for us to do in life, and I love writing

When I was little, I wanted to fly When I grow up, I run after the city My feet left the ground and I achieved a flight of five centimeters

How humble it is, leaving you without the courage to even look back, and how thorough it is that a big dream in life is just a one-man show of your own.

Walking alone, two minds wander. You say I am aimless, But I know where the world is.

This poem is dedicated to those "rebels against the epidemic" who have protected our tomorrow with their lives. Let us pay tribute to the heroes!

Regarding your dreams, are you also looking for an outlet? Does the gap between ideal and reality confuse you? Should you persist or give up? Which one do you choose? There are too many intersections and I don't know where to turn. Success is always on the opposite side. Whether you continue to be yourself or become someone else, you have to make a choice...

Write what you like. You may not be willing to be with me, but after going through wind and rain, I still invite you to see the rainbow together.

The country's culture is as bright as the stars, inspiring future generations. My poems and essays are appreciated by both refined and popular people. Readers see them, and I feel very happy.

I don't have time to write long things, and I can't get out short things.

There are many kinds of life, some are beautiful, some are ugly, some are righteous, and some are evil. It is not only the smoke and smoke of firewood, rice, oil and salt, but also the arrogance and breeze of drunken white clouds.

A letter once a year records love and beautiful memories.

I wanted to write a simple poem, using words and symbols to work together to create a beautiful picture.

Short essays, poems, essays, that's all. . . . . . .

. . . . . . . (￣ Ii ￣;) suck (￣＂￣;)

Are you awake No. 002? Um. This is how the story of a boy and a girl unfolds. Please do not leave me

This spring. The peaches and willows are still green, and the orioles are flying and the swallows are dancing. The only difference is that under the peach and plum trees, those "masked knights" in twos and threes are no longer in groups chatting and banqueting, let alone a surging sea of people. There are only those melancholy and dull eyes, and the ground. The ants on the bed were looking around uneasily... Suddenly, a gust of breeze blew, and pink peach blossoms and snow-white plum blossoms fell one after another. A rain of red and white flowers silently played the prelude to spring.

A student's inner thoughts during the epidemic are real and affectionate. Taste carefully!

Limerick poems by the humble poet Yong Zitu Newbie, please take care of me Hope to give more opinions Accept advice but don't accept criticism This book is "The Collection of Yong Zitu's Works" Including but not limited to poetry, prose Poetry is not created to be read by others. Poetry is the poet's own art. Literature does not exist to please others. Literature is the author's own inner voice.

I tell stories, and you bring melon seeds, peanuts, popcorn, and cola to listen.

May your arms be eternally awake and record the infinite tenderness in the world. Some small poems and sighs of life.

This book records personal feelings. I hope you can read some of your own stories from my experiences.

It's just this sentence that I think is good, so I want to tell you

We memorized many ancient poems in those years, including the homesickness of "the bright moonlight in front of the bed, suspected of being frost on the ground"; the pastoral joy of "beans are planted at the foot of the southern mountain, and the grass is full of bean seedlings"; the sadness of missing my wife, "why should we cut the candles from the west window together, but talk about the night rain in Bashan"; the love and hatred of "living alone in the high moon tower, drinking wine into my sorrow, turning into tears of lovesickness"... The poet's concise writing style perfectly expresses the emotions and scenes, leaving us with endless reveries. I love ancient poems and essays, so I continued to write the unfinished stories that the poet had come up with after reading them. The content of the article should be as close to historical facts as possible, with some fantasy plots. I hope you will like it. Together we complete the poetic and picturesque scenery of those years.

Inspirational style. If you have troubles in life, please subscribe. This is my first time writing a book. Please support me.

This poem was written on March 19, 2020. Spring is warm and beautiful. The spring breeze blows gently on the cheeks and blows through every place and corner of the world. It brings the hope of life and is full of endless power. It was March, the sun was just right and the breeze was not dry. The footsteps of spring are here as promised, let us walk on the road of life fearlessly even if we carry a heavy burden!

We once wandered separately, but now we look at each other in exile.