Read a poem before going to sleep ｜ Does love count as a breeze, and does hate count as a proud snow and frost？

　　Daily good poem

　　For love

　　For love, I shed again.

　　Tears. The sea churned in my heart.

　　Like a computer chip

　　Squeeze the memory again and again.

　　Our friendship, as expected.

　　It's a mirage.

　　The sky is like a colt, but it is just a son of Tantan.

　　There's no need to trace anything back.

　　Up and down for five thousand years, I

　　Has withered ...

　　Not to mention breaking the bamboo basket.

　　Beat the bright moon in the water,

　　If you are willing to blink your eyes.

　　I'm willing to do it again.

　　Open your heart. If you're still so

　　I'm puzzled,

　　Don't blame me for closing the one that misses you.

　　Eyes. My eyes

　　Only store love, only store flying.

　　snowflake

　　I don't know if purity is snow.

　　Outside my window, 28 degrees north latitude.

　　Snow, has been floating around.

　　They just can't, they want to.

　　It was just a dream ...

　　If we follow fate,

　　I have been strangled thousands of miles away by love.

　　Days taken away by autumn wind

　　I don't know if purity is snow.

　　If the years are old,

　　The body has changed again.

　　Years have set the stage.

　　Standing on it, does love count?

　　Wind and clouds, is hate a proud snow?

　　Wind and frost. ——

　　Idle

　　In this way, I often make peace with nothing.

　　Laugh and curse. ——

　　The old man's temperament is tired.

　　Just take a nap.

　　What can we do?

　　A laundry list of foreign affairs

　　Sometimes I think too much, a few old friends

　　You don't know many.

　　Friends who chatted online,

　　You always come down to the whole world.

　　Sometimes I made a grand oath,

　　After a chat, it will slip.

　　But they say online love, a chat.

　　The night will be deep!

　　Now, as soon as the CPC Central Committee meets,

　　I think of the Third Plenary Session.

　　When I think of the Third Plenary Session

　　I think of my teenager.

　　When I think of my teenager, I just

　　Nothing to say. What is the reason?

　　Mom.

　　Author: Ye Xiaosong, born in 1964, net name, Prometheus (fire thief), columnist of Reading Sleep Poetry Club, and lover of poetry writing. Some poems are included in Spring Blossoms in Reading Poems, and The Grass grows in Reading Poems. Poetic language is unique, poetic mood is agile, and he is good at digging out poetic soil from the silhouette of life and building a castle of poetry. Poetry has its own unique meaning and particularity, and has a certain degree of recognition.

　　Photo: taken by a sleeping poet

　　Facing the sea, looking for light with black eyes. The Reading and Sleeping Poetry Society was founded on November 16th, 2015. The mission of the poetry society is to "speak for grassroots poets" and to promote the "poetic spirit", that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty, artistic innovation, spiritual pleasure and revelation of survival and life. Now, a collection of poems co-authored by poets has been published, such as Spring Blossoms in Reading Poems, Grass Growing in Reading Poems and Yingying Flying. Poetry friends keep on writing, poetry clubs keep on forging ahead, constantly bring forth new ideas, recommend excellent poems, produce high-quality poetry collections, recite excellent works, and recommend poets' works in various forms, so that more people can read excellent works and appreciate poetry culture. We are on the move!