"There must be injustice and sadness in the world, but through verse, grievance and sadness can be converted." "Chiang Hsun once said so. Reading poetry is like a process of digestion of sadness, for life to leave some monologue, every week this time, I long for you to leave a time for yourself, parting from the reality of the turmoil, the woman fans only read poems for you. (Recommended reading:"read Poems for You" about loving you I've thought too much )

Sleep, Wake up, Kiss
Say goodbye in an empty room
Expect the city to fail
And then we have the
Bedtime Stories
It's a nasty sunny.
Sweet Rain.
Or the knowledge of Qi Mo is not clear
Love

No more sitting still.
Cry like rain.

--John, our feet are soaked in sewage.
(Note: This poem is called Xiayu verse)

I'm missing the little island you live in
It belongs to the tropics, and it belongs to the green country.
On the shallow sand, always perched on the five-colored fish
The bird jumps on the branch, like the Keys ' ups and downs

Where the cliffs are like gazing, draped with long Todo hair
Where the meadows are good to wait, and the flowers are paved with wildflowers if the dish
Where the sun is blue and the sea is green
Then your health is melancholy, love is slowly

The humorous and faint Rey of the cloud
Thicket's dance music and cold streaming song
You live on that little island, I can't describe it.
It's hard to paint the midday sleep there is a slight earthquake

If I go, I'll take my shepherd's flute
When I was a shepherd and you were a lamb
Or I'll go and I'll be a firefly
To light a lamp for you in my life.

--The small island Zheng worries

Please give me a spark
I'll return you the whole sun
Because I'm full of summer.
Easy to move salt
Release the tears.
And the sun is broken into crystals.
It's a swirling butterfly.
Note a spring
Your verse is written in winter
I can't read my body temperature.
Lie in the paper room
Tears to wash the official script into the landscape
But he is gradually withered
The Wings wrinkle into intelligence
Colors Fade into Dreams
I drowned in a bygone age.
When you turn the page
He was blown to snow.

--Specimen He Yawen

But I still stay in the dry place, finish a bottle of wine
To flip a bottle upside down
Another flip.
The rain outside the window ignores me: A drop holding a drop, falling
Fusion is destruction, and destruction is fusion.
But how long does it take for a man to return to the sky
A process of falling down
When I drop a piece of soot, another piece of soot is present.
I love a man to die
The other is in the belly.
When the rain falls in different places, there are different sounds.
No one disappears faster than who
No one comes to be more complete

There is no one in the rain, no one is not in the rain

--Rain falls out of the window Yu Shuhua

In the name of the poem 〉〉 The rainy day, let the good song accompany you

We never contacted each other in a deliberate
But sometimes you dial the wrong number
Talking to each other in the air.
The thieves of time stole the sound
No one has been here. I swear
I refuse to answer personal questions.
So that love becomes a Chamber of secrets, like every night.
Secretly carrying falsify's bed.
To solidify our sleep.
I would say, no one's ever been here.
But maybe you've been here, maybe just left.
The whole house ...
All that's left is a clue to your absence.

--An excerpt of the Invisible Accomplice Pogora

the alibi of 〉〉 Love in the name of poetry