Ask the prawns to write love poems to the girls and write love poems to the girls

You're stupid, get her name up, and I'll write it for you! Write about her name and express love!!

The poplar flowers of the dissolved stream are scattered, and the fragrance of Zhuyan orchid does not appear.

Occasionally, when I met Feng Cuidai, I felt a spring breeze.

The heart is numb, and it is difficult to speak carefully, only to hear Yaxiao's ears.

A heart is full of feelings, but it is like a butterfly in unrequited love.

Absolutely original, if the landlord, I am not very grateful, if there is a need in the future, I should rack my brains, and create another article.

Don't copy buddy!!

I don't know when I sleep in spring, and I have few clothes in my dreams! The wind and rain are coming at night, and the children are rejoicing.

I will treat you like a willow in spring, every year, without saying goodbye.

I write your name in the wind;

I draw your appearance with flowing water;

I shouted "I love you" to the distant mountains;

I deposited it in the cloud.

"Beauty" eyebrows are like spring willows in February, and the smile is more beautiful than the dog summer;

The eyes are like the full moon in the fifteenth autumn, and the kiss makes the snow warm in the ninety-ninth winter.

I'm Sorry, I Love You".

Your sigh, and the wind ceases to breathe;

Your sobbing, the light rain is not in the teardrops;

So I suffocated in the bitter scorching sun;

So I died by the dry well;

I do not expect your mercy;

Just don't wipe off those six blood words:

I'm Sorry, I Love You".

Absolutely original Share it.

1. When you are unhappy, I accompany you, when you cry, I accompany you, when you are in a bad mood, I accompany you, you.

2. When you're happy, I laugh unconsciously; When you're sad, my heart hurts more than yours.

A lonely light stands at the window.

I'm behind the door pretending you're not gone.

The old land is more lonely if the full moon is revisited.

The candle flame in the middle of the night couldn't bear to scold me.

A pot of wandering wandering is difficult to enter the throat of the world.

After you leave, the wine is warm, and the memories are thin.

How to steal the time when the water flows eastward.

The flowers ripen once they bloom, but I miss them.

Who is playing a song with the pipa?

The years peeled off on the wall to see when I was a child.

I still remember that we were all very young.

And now the sound of the piano is faint, I wait, you haven't heard it.

Whoever plays a song with the pipa again breaks the east wind.

Maple Leaf will dye the story and the ending I can see through.

I'll lead you through the ancient road outside the fence.

In the years of desolation, even the breakup was silent.

What age does the pickle girl still write poetry, I'll teach you a trick, you ask her to come, invite her to eat and drink, take her out for a walk, don't be reluctant to spend money,

A new era of love poetry writing has been ushered in! New Genre! Support.

Rose thorns dark dusk.

Foggy morning.

Thorns of roses. Stabbing the flower picker.

Cold eyes.

Warm with a kiss. Let the tears run through it.

Bumpy gears.

The mound of memory. The Forgotten Grave.

The thorns of the rose pierce the dullness of the night.

Bow your head and lean over. Beauty at your fingertips.

It's stunningly beautiful. But it also hurts.

Who will love and who will hate.

Who will have heartache. Who wouldn't bear it.

Who will say to me like you do.

Your tear stains. My scars".

Miss you. In every night.

But I only saw a bend of the sun.

Maybe it's comforting the loneliness in my heart.

Thinking of you in every dream.

But there were only two lines of tears.

Maybe it's filling the bottom of the lake of longing.

Miss you every spring.

But there were only birds that flew back.

I have news of you.

There are swallows in the north ridge, and the feathers are like snow; The wind is mournful, and it is difficult to fly than wings; A fold of feathers, no matter what; The wind is dignified, and I will never give up!