Seek modern poetry, not more but refinement, and if I like it, add points.

Lin Huiyin's "You Are the April Day of the World".

I say you are the April day of the earth;

The sound of laughter lit up the winds on all sides;

The light spirit dances and changes in the glory of spring. .

You are the clouds and smoke in the early April sky, the soft wind blowing at dusk, the stars shining unintentionally, and the drizzle falling in front of the flowers. .

That light, that graceful, you are, you wear the crown of fresh flowers, you are innocent, solemn, you are the full moon of the night. .

After the snow melts, the goose yellow, you are like;

Fresh budding green, you are;

Tender and joyful, the water floats in your dream of looking forward to the white lotus. .

You are the blossom of a tree, the swallow murmuring between the beams, you are love, warmth, hope, you are the April day in the world!

You can read poems with the index finger, such as:

Believe in the future when the cobwebs mercilessly seized my hearth.

When the smoke of ashes sighs the sorrow of poverty.

I still stubbornly lay out the ashes of disappointment.

Write with beautiful snowflakes: Believe in the future.

When my purple grapes turn to late autumn dew.

When my flowers snuggle up to someone else's feelings.

I still stubbornly use the withered vines of frost.

Write on the bleak earth: Believe in the future.

I'm going to use my fingers on the waves that rush to the horizon.

I will hold the sea of the sun with the palm of my hand.

Swaying the warm and beautiful pen of the dawn.

Write in a child's pen: Believe in the future.

The reason why I firmly believe in the future.

It is the eyes of people who believe in the future.

She has eyelashes that sweep away the dust of history.

She has the pupils to see through the pages of time.

Regardless of people's perception of our rotten flesh.

The melancholy of being lost, the pain of failure.

It is a tearful feeling of emotion and deep sympathy.

Or give a contemptuous smile and a spicy mockery.

I'm a firm believer in people's trust for our backbone.

Those countless explorations, lost, failures, and successes.

We will definitely give an enthusiastic, objective and fair evaluation.

Yes, I anxiously await their assessment.

Friends, believe firmly in the future.

Believe in indomitable efforts.

Believe in the youth that triumphs over death.

Believe in the future and love life.

1968 Beijing.

Bian Zhilin's "Broken Chapter".

You stand on the bridge and look at the scenery.

The people watching the view are watching you from upstairs.

The bright moon decorates your window.

You decorate other people's dreams.

Haizi: "Spring Blossoms, Facing the Sea".

From tomorrow onwards, be a happy person.

Feed the horses, chop wood, and travel the world.

From tomorrow, care about food and vegetables.

I have a house facing the sea, and the spring flowers are blooming.

From tomorrow onwards, we will communicate with each and every one of our loved ones.

Tell them about my happiness.

The blissful lightning told me.

I'm going to tell everybody.

Give every river, every mountain a warm name.

Stranger, I bless you too.

May you have a bright future.

May you have a lover and eventually become married.

May you be blessed on earth.

I just want to face the sea and bloom in spring.

Smell a lot of "Dead Water".

It's a desperate stagnant water, and the breeze can't blow the slightest ripple.

It's better to throw more broken copper and iron, and splash your leftovers.

Maybe the copper ones should be green into jade, and the iron cans should be embroidered with a few peach blossoms;

Let the greasy weave a layer of Luo Qi, and the mold will steam out some clouds for him.

Let the stagnant water ferment into a ditch of green wine, full of pearl-like white foam;

The laughter of the small beads turned into big beads, and they were bitten by the flower mosquitoes who stole the wine.

Then a ditch of desperate backwater can be boasted a little vividly.

If the frog can't bear the loneliness, it is considered a stagnant water and cries out.

This is a desperate backwater, this is not the place of beauty, it is better to let the ugly to reclaim it, and see what kind of world he creates.

Autumn in Beijing has arrived, a red leaf, a maple forest.

It was the weeping placket, it was the confession of blood.

An unbearable past.

Why remember the crying past, the maple leaves have fallen, and there is spring!

Give Li Bai to take care of Shang Piaopeng in autumn, and he is not ashamed of Ge Hong.

Drink and sing wildly, who is the hero?

Cast into children's literature.,I won't write the address.,Buy a copy in the newspaper hall.,The last page of the town base (except for the cover) is written.,The things in there are very good articles.,If your manuscript can be published with the brigade change.,Then I'll congratulate you in advance!

The freedom of the mind cannot be relinquished.

The poet is bound like the South China tiger, and the "cowshed" and "cage" refer to an image, that is, something that restricts freedom, and although the poet is comfortable in the shed, his mind is free

Senior year of high school, well. You can be good friends with him first, and then you can go to that kind of good friend, and slowly develop into a "confidant". Don't confess, you can let him know what you mean to her, but don't confess, you think that since you didn't confess to her, she won't have a chance to refuse, so that the girl's psychological pressure will be reduced.

Evolve slowly! ～

It's best to wait until you finish the university entrance examination, and then think about it before confessing, it's not too late to confess when you are admitted to the ideal university, otherwise it will affect your studies if you are rejected.

Balloon. Please gently let go of the string that holds me around.

Let me leave this world quietly in your regretful eyes.

I will never return.

The warmth of your little hands is also fading away.

Child, I have gone for you to that dusty paradise.

Please live a strong life in this world.

Years later. Do you remember me or not?

Just remember, that dusty paradise.

Someone has already been there for you.

Balloon. The round head is slippery, the abdomen is hollow, and the green clouds rely on the wind.

Once you let it go, the belly swells and rumbles.

You always don't want to be led by me.

Even if it's a thin thread.

One day, borrow a gust of wind.

You break free.

I see you soaring with joy.

I can even hear it.

You can't help but laugh.

You won't see me cry.

I'm just worried.

You don't know what's at stake.

At night, the star parked on the telephone pole twinkles.

Coming and going, passers-by, with the help of this star, boldly move forward.

Shine in people's hearts.

Twinkling stars, can't you support it?

Darkness and light. Street lamps, following the golden glow of the sun.

It's dark. (I'm in the sixth grade, too, so you probably learned the same place as me, oops.) It's not very well written today.,,It's a little spooky.。。 ）