Who knows some youthful, energetic and positive poems?

Everyone has his own youth, which is the most beautiful and wonderful stage in life. After experiencing ups and downs of youth, you will grow into a truly meaningful person. Youth, short-lived, will flow away gently from your hands. Grasping youth means that a full life is waiting for you not far ahead! Youth is like this bunch of flowers! When it is opened, it is gorgeous! But when it withered, it was terrible! So is our youth. In the season of youth, we are full of passion, but once youth dies, we will lose our vitality, passion and unrestrained! We should cherish youth and don't let it flow away in vain!

Poetry of youth

Youth is a song.

A song that never gives up.

Youth is a kind of

A never-ending river

Youth is a book.

Never get tired of reading.

Youth is a cup.

Endless tea

Youth is a building.

Standing on the top of the national forest

Carve the footprints of thousands of young people in Qian Qian.

Youth is a building.

Knowledge pagoda

Sprinkle the sweat of thousands of young people in Qian Qian.

Youth is a thriving tree.

Stand the test of wind and rain

Youth is a flower.

A budding bud

Want to show the world your unique charm.

I use passionate

Heart of youth

Give yourself a gift of youth

That is a poem of youth.

Youth quartet

(1) Three In the snow

It snowed in March.

My mother died in the dust

It's not just the winter sunshine that disappears in the sky.

And flying pigeons.

The strings are broken.

I fell on the top of the mountain in the depths of Yuntao and cried.

March is the season when flowers bloom.

And my harvest is really the withering of flowers all over the world.

On the snowy road

Dance with dead leaves

I sat on the ground.

Look up at the gates of heaven every night.

And the river that can't swim.

The stars have long since disappeared.

There is no touch of the moon on the ditch.

I debug with my own tears.

Playing a prime minister's song on a snowy night.

(2) Unrequited love

look at you

Sprinkle light green in my lonely autumn

Grow into crazy spring grass

(3) My youth

The dark sky in winter

No beautiful birds fly by.

a pool of stagnant water—stagnant/lifeless condition

No fish swims happily

I flew into the sky.

Overlooking the flowers projected on the running water

I found that it had turned yellow in the wind of years.

Childhood is a complete mirror.

Youth is a mottled leaf.

Who is full of worried mountains and valleys?

Who sleeps in the dream of white clouds?

The cuckoo sings every night in spring.

But the passion that has passed away?

(4) Bright March

Bright March

Many flowers and shadows

The wind shakes the green leaves.

I opened the window.

The sun came in.

Drive away the shadows.

I hear lonely and broken voices.

The shredded water of youth taken away by birds

Isn't it my sadness that shines?

Forget all this.

The wine I once drank.

Once lost mountain road

The snow on the mountain has melted.

In this beautiful March

Let's listen to the whispers of flowers and dreams together.

You are my youth.

You came quietly,

With a little naughty.

You are so naive,

Hypocrisy is irresistible

You came quietly,

With a little dream,

You are so cute.

You're weak,

Freshness is your temperament,

Simplicity is your wealth.

I want to hold you in my arms,

But you cried.

Therefore, I will no longer desecrate your purity.

Just because you are my youth.

Young people are not in the mood

< 1 >

When I look back again,

The one in the back.

Yao Ming waved his hand for a long time.

but

Still nothing.

Only the leaves on those trees in the back.

In the wind

Show off gently

< 2 >

In these quiet days, I always look out of the window silently.

Look at that bare tree. It's a single old man who spends the winter.

My frozen wound is still slowly bleeding.

Lonely branches are bare and scattered in the cold breeze.

The roots are full of confusion.

A few finches are jumping under the eaves, looking here from time to time.

But never far from their warm home.

The sun is always pale in the dignified sky.

A monotonous and silent sigh over and over again

After shaking your face again and again, there is nothing left.

< 3 >

There are still seven or eight stars scattered on the hay that has not fallen for a long time.

A bird lay quietly in the grass, as if it had been dead for a long time.

I walked through this place, but I couldn't find my deep mark.

The clear river is covered with leaves of all sizes.

Many traps were laid leisurely in a wide valley.

Step on the accumulated fallen leaves carefully.

Find the way with a particularly gentle voice.

Sometimes you will find the shell casings left by old hunters in the years.

I suddenly realized that it was originally composed of some beautiful petals.

Steel plate

< 4 >

Is it to pray for the song of the wind again for the yellow land that has been dry for ten thousand years?

Is it for the end of that song to cross your wandering soul again?

Is it for the soul to surpass a banana that was originally far away from the jungle a few years ago?

Is it because of that unique banana that it continues to wander in the empty fantasy world?

Day after day, I was soaked in rain and exhausted by the scorching sun.

Day after day, dusty footprints make the ground fuzzy.

How many times have tears filled the sea and Wang Yang?

The environment is getting worse and worse, and we can't hit a brand-new human being.

The bitterness and saltiness of past lives still surround the dam you stepped on.

< 5 >

Sitting by the river, sitting on the rough black beach.

I'm thinking about that vast wasteland and yellow mud again.

I have been away from home for a long time, and there is nothing left.

The most disgusting silence is easygoing.

Let the footsteps of the years drift the black floating soil into a blank.

The two mouths finally became a muddled dead sea.

After millions of storms, it is still immortal silence.

< 6 >

Laughter came from a distance.

Flip the pages on the table with the wind.

It's like you're approaching through the distant waves.

This is a lotus flower that blooms in the snowfield in winter. . . . . .

youth

Those infinite memories

Slip out of the track of life quietly

Like a gap in the table.

From this year to next year

year after year

Record happiness and sadness

Confirmed the joys and sorrows.

Left traces of our growth.

Youth is a beautiful dream.

But one day I will wake up from my dream.

Youth is a small river

But it will dry up one day.

Youth is a rainbow.

But it will disappear one day.

Youth is a blooming flower.

But one day it will fall.

Youth is the fine sand in your hands.

Unconsciously, it has leaked out.

Youth is a meteor in the sky.

Although it was beautiful, it passed quickly.

Youth is the fragrance left by happiness.

Everything I want to cherish is gone.

Staring at the willow shadow on the shore, I once again walked into the memory of youth. It used to be a world of green grass and flowers, but now it is covered with a layer of silver frost. Because for a 30-year-old, playing the string of youth may be a bit out of date.

But, after all, I have been stationed in this life station. Didn't you see those crooked footprints on the road? Listen to that simple flute tune, isn't it the inner call? What a persistent pursuit, what a naive fantasy, no falsehood and no sadness. And those vain and vanity are the footprints of my youth. This is the road I walked when I was defeated by the storm of the times. Yes, the youth I still remember is a painful era, an era in which fanatical passion and shocking slogans are intertwined. I have also studied hard at the cold window, always trying to get rid of the gifts given to our generation by the ten-year disaster-ignorant cloudy and childish dust and shallow mud. However, who can get rid of the air pollution of the times?

Thankfully, I am awake, and I understand life, which is the alternate weaving of sadness and happiness, and the constant translocation of courage and cowardice.

No failure and frustration, no pain and hesitation. Then how can I taste the pride of success and the joy of victory? How can we get rid of childish and shallow footprints? So I look forward, as if I saw a harvest season coming to us. . . . .

Youth without Complaints (Xi Murong _ Taiwan Province Province)

At a young age

If you love someone,

please

Please be sure to treat him gently

therefore

all

Every moment will be flawless beauty.

If you have to part.

Okay, okay, bye.

And be grateful.