Who helped me write modern poetry of about 15 words

Yes. Termite.

Yes. Corpse. Yes. Termite carcasses.

Out of School has had its youth and sadness.

Once realistic and hopeful.

Show your knowledge and shine.

Walk through sorrow and ideals.

I didn't dare to look at it. I'm afraid to see your bloom.

I don't dare to think about it. Fear of touching the sorrow of love.

I'm nostalgic. Ideals are buried deep in my heart.

Solid footsteps.

Let the dreams stir in your chest.

An unchangeable will.

It's like the Yellow River is flowing.

Great faith.

It's like the mountain is singing.

The beauty of everything.

Just bloom in autumn.

Hope it solves your problem.

I used to think that my life would be infinitely better.

Only now did I realize that I was stupid.

There is so much hypocrisy and deceit in this world.

Slowly, I felt lost.

The heat and coldness of the world.

Everything around has changed.

I will also fall into the red dust of injustice woven by life and myself.

If I'm gone, don't be sad.

In the romantic Garden of Eden, there is still the lingering fragrance of our hand-holding.

If I'm gone, don't be sad.

This strange city once recorded my down-and-out hesitation.

If I'm gone, don't be sad.

My fragile shoulders, how can I bear your dream of flying.

If I'm gone, don't be sad.

The boat of life, we have all worked hard to rock.

If I'm gone, don't be sad.

The wind and rain of fate have long broken my wings.

The old things of the dust, the aftermath of the setting sun, just like the flowing water in front of the court, silently flow to the distance, to the distance.

The writing is average, very popular. Absolutely original, though.

Met that day.

It's the season when the leaves fall.

You say that the autumn leaves float in the wind.

It is the most beautiful season.

Because of the encounter. So I picked up a deep specialty.

Buried deep in my poetry.

I've spent my whole life collecting it.

Leave that day. From then on, the corner of the sky is on the side.

Spring comes and falls. The encounter of the day.

The winding alleys are still the same, and the raindrops are beating on the umbrellas.

At this time, the smoke and rain are hazy.

You're walking down the alley.

Years put your hair short in half.

It has been stained with a thin layer of frost.

You can search for *** poetry collections, they are all modern and modern, and they all meet your requirements.

"I fell in love with a beautiful girl".

I'm beaming with vigor today.

I love the lead light makeup.

I often want to go up to the sky to see the moon.

The hook knife is soft and long one by one.

Thousands of trees, thousands of trees.

Spring comes fresh and beautiful.

Who's young and beautiful.

The heart period is secretly hidden.

My sister-in-law is dressed in new clothes.

When the state of the mother is ashamed of the front fang.

Miss Lu Xun.

Kangqiao faced the degeneration of the nation.

There was no anger. Are you still a poet?

In the face of the degeneration of the nation.

There's just anger.

Didn't pick up the pen of **.

Nor is it a good poet.

Miss Lu Xun. is going to take over Lu Xun's pen.

took over the pen of Lu Xun's abandonment of medicine and writing.

Cry out for the conscience of the nation.

Cry out for the conscience of the nation.

I miss Sun Chengwen.

Thoughts are pulled in.

I believe a bird flew away.

Birdsong is faint. The sound goes in the other direction.

I've heard it.

Pleasant on another tree.

I'm on the side of silent thoughts.

It's like guarding the sound transformation of a thousand years ago.

This metamorphosis comes and goes.

The concern became irrelevant.

In autumn, I'll give you a ride on a fast horse.

Qin Guangdong whispered to a leaf.

Let's stay.

Early in the morning, when the sun is coming.

You tell me quietly, too.

You're leaving. I'm busy stockpiling the language for this winter.

Hidden deep in the cellar.

You start crying.

One drop, two drops, three drops.

Dripping with the barrenness of the mountains.

About Autumn Death. I strung together all the golden words.

Hanging from the weeping treetops in front of the door.

The wind swept away my exhaustion.

Open the window of the heart.

Let yourself learn to relax.

Look up at the outside world.

Let your mind fly.

Open the window of the heart.

Follow in the footsteps of others.

Look at the outside world.

Maybe it will be more beautiful.

Open the window of the heart.

Walk into someone else's window.

You will find out. Their world is more beautiful.

Suppose you are a snowflake, fluttering from heaven.

I have the direction I want to go

Drifting, fluttering, drifting,——

The whole sky is my direction.

Even if it is a lonely cliff, even if it is a lonely world, I am not afraid of the bleak rain alley

Melancholy, melancholy, melancholy,——

Cutie, you're my direction!

Let the elf light an orange lamp, flashing your deer-like eyes, and the fragrance of cinnabar plums

Quiet, quiet, quiet, ,——

Oh, then I will abandon all my freedoms and dreams!

Just gently stick your lightness, gently, penetrate into the palms of your hands, the hearts of your eyebrows, the whole soul!

The bay that gives birth to a spring——

Wandering, wandering, wandering,——

Wander in your soft heart....