Reminiscing about some small poems from childhood, I wrote some small poems from my childhood

The tip of the tender bud has just emerged.

Just dyed that faint pink.

I just picked up a very small stamp.

Attach that big, big envelope.

The wind had just come out of the woods.

Carrying a very bright flag is shaking majestic.

Oh, no matter what the grown-ups say.

Anyway, we're on the road, step by step.

Our footprints may be twisted and turned.

Our knees may be swollen by stones.

There may be a sudden storm that will throw us to the bottom of the cliff.

There may be illusory landscapes that confuse our eyes.

All beautiful and brutal stories.

It could happen anywhere, maybe tonight.

Maybe tomorrow morning.

If that's because we're going to go back.

Retreat into the warm arms of mom and dad.

So what else can we count.

It's better to lie down and be a bear.

A bear for human viewing.

Oh, since we're doomed, we're going to have to step on our feet.

Since we are destined to move forward.

Even if it's just a few inches or less.

As long as we're on the move, we don't blush.

Stations where there is no way back do not sell return tickets.

There is no way back, and the stream that goes out of the mountain will not flow back.

Go down, there are acacia birds and golden peacocks in front.

Walking down, there are olive trees and mandolins in front of you.

The wind comes, the rain comes, the thunder and the lightning come.

The roads that we have stepped out with our feet.

It is the true name of each of us left in this world.

Summary. Hello, a little poem from my childhood.

Childhood" under the sunset, innocent laughter on the greenery;

In the snowflake dance, the pure and flawless hand-holding in the carnival;

When the osmanthus is playing, the chase is simply held in the dust fragrance, and the stream is fluttering, and the clear and transparent laughter is floating.

The years evaporate gently like water, and childhood quietly precipitates like gold.

In the depths of the world, childhood glows with light and beckons from afar.

A little poem from my childhood.

Hello, the children's filial piety poem "Childhood" written by myself is reflected in the sunset, and the innocent laughter on the greenery; Snowflakes dance in the draft, pure and flawless hand-holding in the carnival; When the osmanthus is playing, the chase is simply held in the dust fragrance, and the stream is fluttering, and the clear and transparent laughter is floating. The years evaporate gently like water, and childhood quietly precipitates like gold. In the depths of the world, childhood glows with light, and the mountains call from afar.

Hello group leader, do you have any other questions, if there is one, you can continue to ask, if my banquet can help you, you can give a few likes and attention, and I wish you a happy life!

Change to a simpler one.

"Memories of Childhood" still recalls the time when the children were in full bloom, and they knew the poems in front of the window. Chasing butterflies on the way from school, and thinking about dragonflies in hand. The egg-digging tree is filial piety and the birds are frightened, and the fishing in the stream is also late. The childlike innocence is not in the true feelings, who unravels the flat head and sideburns and dyes the silk and is clever and early.

Are these original or?

Written by my child.

Terrible. Thank you.