I m out of love, who will help me make a poem

Death. The other side of the horizon.

Irrelevant thoughts.

Unrelated implications.

Hearts and hearts warm.

Time. Forgot about the day.

It will no longer be flickering.

This winter. How far can we go.

Never mind. Dry and quiet parting.

Who is singing the parting song.

Who of us will remember.

Stories will be forgotten eventually.

Leaves bruises all over the body.

Pain in the left atrium.

Fragments of the past.

Buried in the moonlight.

Blood-piercing poems. I want to forget about yesterday.

But the memories are still sprinkling salt on the wound.

A firm expression.

Departed figures.

Kneeling with his feet broken.

I can't get you back a smile.

Falling from the corner of the eye.

Is it tears, or is it blood?

I finally can't see you.

Invisible anymore.

Fantasize about looking back even once.

Then slowly put away the endless loss.

A ** that has nothing to do with you.

Enough can be born from death.

No matter how hysterical shouting.

I can't finish this heart-filled sorrow.

You will eventually turn into a wisp of wind.

Through my worthless heart.

Clean.

You're gone. It's all written by myself, don't blame me if it's not written well.

That season. Let's go.

Carrying his basket of flowers.

Follow the clouds of tears.

Let's go. The mountain, with broken wings.

It is a mountain spring that is affectionate.

Take in. My eyes.

Unable to fly again.

Back. It became me.

Forever landscape.

The world is long, year after year.

Open your eyes and see the past.

Two worlds, between you and me.

The heart is broken! I don't remember to be born!

On the bank of the green river, the scenery of the mountains and rivers is good, and I can only see Qing smiling.

Peach willow tree, clouds around the mountain hidden, no old man!

Can anyone tell me, is there such a pen?

Able to draw a pair of eyes that do not shed tears.

Retaining the lost time in the world can make all beauty no longer be zeroed.

Thinking of the picture of me holding hands with you, tears turned into rain all over the sky.

If I can see you again, let me and you sizzle until I am old.

Listen to if I become a memory and suddenly miss you very much, follow the lyrics, and your feelings will naturally let the melody take away. Why do you need poetry?

Gently I go, just as softly I come

Fear shackles the footsteps.

You walk towards him. The road ahead is lost and hesitating.

The sea, it's full of water.

Horses, four-legged.

You are the hot waves of September summer.

You are yearning for the sudden pouring rain.

You are a big dream flying over mountains and rivers.

You are on the side of the road with snow all night.

You are the young scenery of the Southern Hemisphere.

You are speechless, you are looking.

You are wings through floor-to-ceiling windows.

You are the fragrance of the sun shining in the small town.

You are powerless to resist the magnetic field of constant chasing.

You are the direction of the evening sunset.

You are the ephemeral ideal I can't embrace.

You are the journey, you are the hometown.

You are an unforgettable love that you don't want to stop.

You are on a long way to escape from the ruins.

You are a time of no regrets.

You are a bunch of life blooming in its full force.

You are carefully writing stroke by stroke.

You are the wrong growth of a few strands of hair.

You are the antidote, you are the nutrition.

You are the head of the world for home.

You are my exclusive regret and longing.

You're a dream I don't want to wake up from, tender.

My name is Unforgettable.

My name is Unforgettable.

My name is unforgettable.

I used to sing it a lot when I was out of love.

If life is only as first seen, what is the autumn wind and sad fan;

Waiting for idle changes but old people's hearts, but old people's hearts are changeable;

Lishan said that it was half a night away, and the tears and rain and zero bells did not complain;

How is Bo Xing Jinyilang, who wishes on the day of the wings!

The autumn breeze is clear, and the autumn moon is bright;

The fallen leaves gather and disperse, and the jackdaws are frightened;

Lovesick people know when they meet, and they are embarrassed at this night;

Enter my lovesick door. I know that I am lovesick;

Sauvignon Blanc is long and remembred, and Sauvignon Blanc is endless;

I knew it was so stumbling, and I didn't know each other at the beginning.

How about being brief: Running water rubs the stubborn stones, and I love into your heart. However, the stone can be grinded, and the heart is poured into your heart. The cold wind stores in the rain, urging my love to death.

I don't know how brittle my heart is, I just know that my heart is broken.

I don't know how tired my heart is, I just know that I can't sleep at night.

Drinking and getting drunk in the streets and alleys at night. Grief and sadness have no taste.

Everything has receded, and happiness has returned to its place.

I also listened to Wu Kequn's "Writing Poems for You", which I think is good.