Library

This is a new Chinese poetry, a poetry written only for the five thousand years of Chinese inheritance!

[You had no intention of being a drafty person, but you chose to be aloof and cause a torrent] "Later We live our ideal life" "Later We all became each other' ** Life suddenly seems like a dream After reading the chapter "Floating Life", it feels like a brocade or a dream

The initial state of writing poetry. Thanks to the village girl Cui'er for accompanying me. Seven series with 100,000 words. Dedicated to Tweety.

I have been fond of some classical poetry since I was a child, and occasionally write some things. I was originally writing a book on this website, and when I discovered that this subject matter existed, I suddenly had the idea to sort out my previous works, and at the same time update my occasional good sentences at any time.

A madman like an elm, not an elm head, nor a lump of wood, not stupid, not delicate, not tender, not tall, but one good thing: his eyes can see the scenery that others cannot see, and his heart cannot fall in love with the person that others love to death. I have a hobby, I love freedom and wind. I am alone with the wind, floating among mountains, rivers, hillsides, forests, valleys, and mountains and rivers. I am not comfortable or walking alone, just because these feet can go to places that even the wind cannot reach. Music and poetry and words, moonlight and stars, hillsides and horses and cows in the wind, music cannot be separated from sound, moonlight cannot be separated from night, and I cannot be separated from any of them. I, without a wooden head, am indeed a lunatic. People who don't understand me laugh at me as a fool.

Reminiscing about the past, I borrowed a candle to write about these great years, always accompanied by the bright moon, drinking and talking happily, deep in winter and shallow in spring. In fact, I often find it difficult to write because I have very little inspiration. However, when I am bored, I can conceive in front of the window, which is where the fun comes from.

Human inner activities, ideological struggles, sources... Confused. Poetry copywriting

I arranged and reorganized the words with a deep tone, describing that at a certain moment, I was melancholy because of the past years and worried about the confused future.

I would like to share (display) some poems I have written with you.

With fresh spring in my heart, I count the fallen flowers in my spare time. Wang Jie's essay, corrections are welcome.

This is the love that belongs to us, may time remember every moment together

[The author's work during his freshman year in high school] [This article is suitable for emotional content] This is a prose poem written for each different person, with a page dedicated to you. To every wanderer who is wandering outside, to every young man who is emotionally frustrated, to that period of our lost youth... You said a thousand words of "I love you" to her, which is not as good as others' "I will wait for you downstairs". The thousand and first love letter to you is: Marry me, girl. The deep winter is not as warm as the sun, and the light spring is as warm as the summer rain. Hello, stranger, I am glad that you can read my story. Yuxi Qifan Group: 582872994.

Poetry, tea, tranquility, tranquility. Some essays, given to the three-inch world that disappears in the wind

Whatever you think at the moment, you will express it in your spare time, whether it is good or bad.

Life is not about searching for happiness, but looking at the clear springs and tears with laughter. When I'm drunk, I always have no words to dream about. I feel melancholy in front of the lonely lamp.

The morning wind rises and turns over, leaving behind a trace of love that cannot be wiped away! Drunk in the years you never left!

Maybe the appearance of a person will change your and my life, maybe a small thing that a person does unintentionally will make you and me change our views. ...

Banyue Zhishan's poetry collection belongs to the post-90s generation and is our eternal youth.

Wind If so Birds in the sky forget their direction The trees turned their heads and wiped away their tears Rivers flee to the east That's my coming

This endless practice Comprehend through experience, cherish while being moved A tear slipped quietly, wet the tissue paper, and fell on the ink stains It rhymes with a pond of ink, reflecting whose memories. --A companion piece to "The Salted Fish Spreads Its Wings"

Inspiration is always in life. It bursts out inadvertently, like fireworks. Although it is amazing, it is only momentary. Only by recording it can we not let down a certain moment in the past.

When I recall many things, I am always confused and confused. It is always difficult to make a choice about life.

One day, two fish-buying customers came to the pet shop Yumei House...

Destiny is not about giving up, but about working hard. Destiny is not luck, but choice.

Listening to the glorious ballads, thinking about the past, and longing for the future, this is the beauty of life.

A pot of wine is lit with unfathomable passion, regardless of its source or origin. You become a friend when you order a drink, your mind is filled with trivial matters, and you will not give up until you are drunk.

Hand-planted with flowers, the delicate face is expressed lightly, and the flowers' borders are lightly traced. Carefully turn over the fertile soil of the world, listen to the cuckoo of the world, and sit under the shade of the world at noon.

I thought that the rest of my life would be like this, suffering and pain ending up in the vacuum of life. I never thought that fate would still fulfill me. Thank God for blessing you to come to me, silently help me walk with you, share the burden on my shoulders, and share the joy of my small success. With the cycle of the sun and the moon, I learned to laugh and found the confidence and calmness. For the rest of my life, I will go on a long journey, hand in hand with you, without fear of the stars and the sea. ? ? ? ? ?

I don't remember what I said for how long. Anyway, the car moved a few steps in front of me and drove away from behind me. I moved forward against the wind and cried all the way. The grievance was unprecedented bitterness and bitterness, and the helplessness was unprecedented loneliness and panic. After walking in the world for decades, for the first time, I let my tears flow freely as if no one else was around. What makes a tough-as-nails woman no longer strong? What makes a mother wearing armor turn from strong to soft in seconds? ? ? ? ??

Sensual life, life is short, longing is like a flood, Mu Ran wakes up and looks at the past

You are a kite that I can't hold the string on. Soaring in the sky is my most beautiful hope for you. The sea is vast and fish can leap high into the sky and birds can fly. There will always be a blue sky between the sea and the sky that belongs to you. Outside the world you cannot see, there will always be a light that blesses you, cheers for you, and waits for you. That is the care I have built for you with my heart and love. It is the home platform that every mother in the world builds for her children...

This little book is the fireflies I have treasured for many years. I once hid them in my pocket. Now I let them out and let them be free, fly, love, hate...

It's the rainy season again, and it rains here. I listen to the rain, watch the rain, love the rain, and hear the sound of rain beating on the thick floor-to-ceiling windows. I feel moved by the scene, thinking of the people in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, intoxicated in the rain of the past, and accidentally forget about myself. This is a kind of feeling, but also a kind of helplessness. This may be life. The memories we can keep in our hearts, whether it is the sound of rain or the people in the rain, the past that shuttles through life, are a dream that will never go away. "Dream of Jiangnan Smoke and Rain" is one of my prose essays. "Dream of Jiangnan Smoke and Rain" contains some of my prose and poems. My poems also have different artistic conceptions. I would like to invite friends to criticize and correct me!

A collection of essays written casually in ordinary days as indifferent as dust. May all feelings and thoughts be well expressed in words. I hope one of these stories truly touches you. The protagonist of this book-- I am Shen Xiao. A smile that is easy to talk and laugh at, a smile that is forced to smile.

This volume contains 32 short poems that I wrote from October 2001 to the end of the year. Although they are immature, they record my life in the language of poetry. Before, I kept a diary every day, which seemed long and complicated. Since this year, I have tried to write poems to integrate poetry into life and add some color to life. This year, my son went to work in the far north. Some of my words expressed my longing and loneliness. Yes, poetry comes from life, from longing and loneliness.

Among the overlapping mountains, a sad love song echoed far away. This unruly young man wants to look into the distance, to a place where there are seas and cities. Her crush might be out there.

Keep a little nest of your own poems and essays, and record some of the words you usually write casually.

Eighteen years old is a day full of youth. We have been naive, we have had desires, we have had evil, we have had fantasies, all of which are bright sunshine. The eighteen-year-old poet's works are all immature in terms of emotional expression, values ​​conveyed and expression techniques, but it is precisely this immaturity that is the most precious thing in this collection of poems - the beauty of youth.

Recalling the ignorant understanding of love, friendship, and family affection when I was young, and recording my childhood When I meet him and her, we shine with each other.

A sister's anger, a person's monologue. Sisters, please take a detour.

The perception of details, the harmony between man and nature, and the pursuit of the highest realm of sensibility.

Different experiences lead to different perceptions, come to the world once and create a dream of your own

If life is just like the first time we met, but I seem to be looking at your affectionate eyes through time and space, both deep and empty. You walk with me, and I will hold hands with you. . . . . . . In the movie, I become a super body and am everywhere, right! If life is nothing more than this, why should we continue to struggle in this life? . . . . . . Maybe you and I both have our own share of watching. Finally, we are really together! Helpless people, Just believe yourself, don't be shy!

We all love this one which is not gentle enough or beautiful enough But still a fascinating world

I like a girl, blowing the wind of winter night, in a poor Christmas, I like a girl. (If you haven't understood modern poetry, piling up rhetoric and liking someone, you must be incoherent)

What is happiness? Happiness is the hands you have held, the songs you have sung, the people you have loved, the so-called past is happiness!

I like poetry and want to write every poem well. So I wrote this...

Regarding the wonderful and ferocious feeling, when did it become burned into my heart? In the reincarnation of the world, with the unforgettable love, can you and I grow old together and accompany you in this life?

What you call sympathy is to face your own pain.

The ferocious feeling in the heart, the beauty of time. Just like you, remember it in my heart!