Reading poetry is like a process of digesting sadness, leaving some monologue for life, leaving some time for oneself, parting from the reality, and women's fans reading poems for you.

A blizzard outside the house
Bedroom, fire, sugar porridge.

Blizzard, Sugar porridge
Because one I

All the Happiness
That's all it's got.

--On Happy wood Heart

Image source: Supitsara ' Pam GL

〉〉 Happiness in the name of poetry , pitching is

There may be an early morning
We found
The world is broken.
So the sweet sunshine spilled in

So there's a smile waiting on the bed
Subconsciously holding your hand in your bleary-eyed
Rough, gentle, you will gee aloud
To sleep with his warm arms

There may be an early morning
The world is broken.
And then no one will be able to control what is broken.
Just sleep quietly, that's right.

--early in the morning without force Streep

Image source: juliette/silverspies

In the name of the poem 〉〉 early in the morning

The eaves after the rain
It's for the wind chimes.
You saw it through the window.
The wind just popped out of the bud.
Very light

And I decided.
Travel on the cat's eyes
All the mysteries are receding
Retreat into the landscape
There's only one thing that's hidden and smart.
To grow into a dandelion.
And then move on without a burden.
Be careful

Because of fear
Will only dare to like you in the dream part of me
I read a poem to you.
Open poetry is very careful and light.
Very light, very careful, like the wind and the cat bells.
I read a poem for you.

Read a poem to you, Wenshan

Image source: Abi

Hey, let's read a poem for you .

The rising temperature has put my mood
Up to all the things that are connected
or all the support points are
A place that can't be supported.
A sense of moving forward
Floating on the street from peak hours

"Suddenly you see you and
6 billion people around the world loosely
The evolution of civilization in the Division of Labor
Disconnected. "

I stopped the steam scattered
With the rest of the body and mind
Back to the strong sunlight
In a city in a blind window
It's a very ordinary place.
Someone ever the time to weep

No one noticed.
In the window of the Mercury Mirror pupil
Every one and
The one who's making eye contact.
At the same time, they are ignored by 6 billion of people.
6 billion A
The most remote corner

On an island
A hectic and solitary addiction

--Luo Zhicheng, June

Image source: Marika G.

A tender song 〉〉 to Taiwanese in the name of poetry

And lost my way when I went home alone
Is this a long road to a crossroads?
A one-way street that prohibits rotation
Go further and farther
I'm afraid we can't find the address of our reminiscence.

A possible number
Not necessarily a figure
I'm stuck too deep in the corner of my memory
Every turn is an ambush.
All intersections are divided into expenditure ambiguity.
It's like the theme of the swing
Go back to the lonely world

The yellow light is still warning ahead.
An eye for suspicion
Measure the distance between us
Do I really want to be on my way home?
I'm still in a hurry to find a way back.
Back to where we said goodbye

--Giotong, lost

In the name of poetry 〉〉 the crowd if there is direction, always toward the direction of separation

Image source: Harriet Travels