Poetic talk, poetic sad talk.

First, the sky is vast, allowing prosperity and sadness, bending the eyebrows, destiny takes a hand, and becoming a thing of the past.

Second, even though we are separated from Qian Shan by thousands of miles, we share the same moon and stars. I'm happy to think about it, too.

Third, it is cool to feel lonely when you are young. When I grow up, I feel lonely is a very sad thing. Now, I think loneliness is not a thing.

Fourth, butterflies are beautiful, but they can't fly over the sea after all.

In May and April, wheatgrass is full of poetic dreams. With a warm and comfortable feeling, walking along the beautiful coastline of the years and looking up, the blue nature is dyed into a continuous picture. In the swaying of the breeze, I danced gracefully with quiet feelings, remembering eternal youth.

Sixth, youth is the nectar of the blood drop of the will and the sweat of hard work-Mika; Youth is a rainbow woven with eternal hope and eternal yearning-gorgeous and brilliant; Youth is an iron wall built with eternal persistence and tenacious toughness-as strong as gold.

If I love you, I will understand you and see the world through your eyes. I can understand you, because I can see myself in you and I can see you in me.

Eight, how can we know the value of sunshine avenue without experiencing rough and muddy difficulties; How can you appreciate the loveliness of sunny days without experiencing snowy nights? How can we feel the joy of victory and success without experiencing the test of setbacks and hardships? Frustration, it is not easy to say I hate you, I am willing to beg.

Nine, dark clouds cover the moon and no one is seen. I can't describe how lonely it is.

10. In the once fragrant land, although the happy flowers have long withered, only traces of wind and rain are left.

I stand in heaven and stare down at you, just as you stare at me, slightly sad.

Twelve, don't think too great of yourself, you know, in other people's world, no matter how well you do, you are only a supporting role.

There are many things in the world, but you are my favorite.

If I can be with you, I would rather let all the stars in the sky fall, because your eyes are the brightest light in my life.

Walking in the sky with you, there are flowers everywhere.

Sixteen, loved, hurt, cried, just know, not mine, I shouldn't have it.

Seventeen, the rest of my vicissitudes. Deduced the sadness of this season's midsummer and explained the flow of this tear. I don't know if I can hold on for a while, one after another. I don't know what I'm doing. What are you waiting for? Maybe I'm looking forward to going back to my gentle fragrance through time.

Eighteen, life is first of all a telescope, seeing far; Then the microscope, look carefully; Next is a magnifying glass, see through; Followed by sunglasses, look down; Finally, look in the mirror and smile at life.

Nineteen, sitting under the night, I always feel that this night is quiet and beautiful. Although there are countless stars with the charm of moonlight, that kind of pain and injury will still float all over the night sky, just like the fragrance of coffee and the bitterness of polysaccharide.

Twenty, the night snow drips, floating around like feathers, one after another, blooming in the quiet and mellow rhyme of Tang poetry and Song poetry. Ai Rui is dense, the waning moon disappears, plum blossoms are covered with snow, a smart chord is brushed away, and a quiet rhyme is overlapped. Eternal tenderness is written as a snow petal at this moment. Tired of seeing Joan Ying by the window, who cares about the word * * *? Oh, try a touch of frosty plum makeup, a slow stroke, listening to misty rain, singing drunken flowers, watching the sea of clouds but singing the phoenix flute.

2 1. No matter how strong the wind is, it won't stop. The fog is so thick that it won't last long, and the wind will still clear up.

Twenty-two, if it is light water, if it is clear tea, it will fly between your fingers. There is a soul in the wind, a shadow in the fog and youth buried in the rain. Hair like snow, Yan Ruyu, aloof and arrogant. When everything is seen thoroughly, it is uncomfortable to suddenly feel awake. When the soul is hurt, I suddenly understand that there is too much helplessness and too much shouldn't. Loneliness has become a belief. I use loneliness to heal my wounds, use blood as ink, build a city and make flowers invincible, and use tears as clothes to perform absolute beauty! The night is dim and the moonlight is like ruins. Flowers fall from the heart and the rain is deep, and prosperity is full of tears.

Twenty-three, I would rather use my life to shed tears for the dust of the world, for Bodhi, and for the prosperity of the world.

In that prosperous era, we were hurt beyond recognition by loneliness.

Twenty-five, you must remember that the rosewood has not gone out, and I have not left.