Ask for a hazy and sad little poem.

There is no poem, there is a poem, it is purely self-created, no master writes well, I hope you like it! As follows:

The jade bones are fragrant and the flowers are bright, and the cold moon is still cold and the west wind is late. Dreams eliminate things, hear the sound of shattering, startled plum snow, the fate is a childish sparrow.

Qing Ben had no intention of damaging Fang Zi, but he didn't know each other. The love moves to the sad place, tears the night and the night is thick, looks through the autumn water, and waits for the return alone.

"Seeing Joy" written by myself Looking at the red leaves in the west alone, the fog is like silk, and the autumn water of the river flows eastward. The wind blows away, the flowers fly, the dream looks back, and laughs at the waning moon hanging on the branches.

You said that next year's winter will be full of spring flowers.

We will love each other.

I said we'd be until the sea was dry.

The desert is no longer arid.

It's lost love.

Everything became illusory.

I wrote it myself, and I looked.

Yijun. Lotus fluttering in the rain.

Zhi loves greenery.

Yinghua butterfly is in love, and Yijun is tired.

I like to stand in the rain, because only when you cry in the rain can you tell if it's rain or my ......tears

You are scattered clouds.

Quietly falling in my heart.

Leave an inexplicable song.

1. This time I saw the flower branches, and I swore that I would not return.

2. When it is warm and cold, it is the most difficult to rest.

3. In order to ask the dark fragrance and leisure, it is also lovesick and 10,000 points to pay for the traces.

4. Even if the dream soul exists, it becomes nothing, and it is not a dream.

5. I don't see it for a day, and I think like crazy.

6. There is no dry soil near tears, and there are broken clouds at low altitude.

7. If you don't believe that the concubine is broken, come back and look before the mirror.

There is no way to eliminate this situation, and the teenager does not know the feeling of sorrow.

Jiang Chengzi Su Shi.

Xiao Xuan window, dressing. That.

A dust, thousands of bones, the origin of lovesickness to urge human bones, exquisite heart, cold ice casting, just for indifference and ruthless things. Poor years, dreams are wasted, endless vicissitudes of life, endless roads, where are people when they wake up from dreams.

The embarrassment of ancient and modern times is to leave sorrow, to leave sorrow and difficult to describe, who does not bow their heads, looking back at the falling flowers and dreams, a few memories, the waning moon branches, empty to the cold autumn.

I wrote it myself: The wind rose on the night I came, and the wind did not stop in the past years. There are three or five people in his life, and the rest look back. Cangwu loses the moon for thousands of miles, and the moon is in a cup of seawater. High-rise buildings drink alone, don't come to inquire, not the world is sad or happy.