Youth modern poetry

There is no time for pity.

Youth leaves no trace.

Recall the past

Recall the past

Things are like people.

Who ever thought

Happy and carefree youth

Always in memory expansion

Who ever thought

We are chasing our dreams.

Keep walking.

Who ever thought

We are full of passion.

We agreed to be together for life.

Who ever thought

Youth after the storm

Without that innocence

Who ever thought

Thoughtful youth

Leave a mark on the years

Eternal existence

Modern Poetry of Youth 2 Youth years,

Has passed with time.

A precious diary,

There are memories of my youth.

That beautiful font,

Full of the flavor of the times.

Between the lines of rhetoric,

Recorded my boldness when I was young.

The revolutionary passion that burned that year,

How valuable!

The hard work of the corps company,

Honed my revolutionary will.

Every time I open this precious diary,

The dazzling poem on the title page,

It will jump into my eyes quickly.

Revolutionary youth are as red as fire,

Take root in the farm.

What a heroic oath this is!

Has always inspired me to move forward.

The passion and fighting spirit of that year,

Unshakable revolutionary belief,

Belief in not being afraid of difficulties and hardships,

Revolutionary pride in selfless work,

Strengthened my determination to take root in the farm.

As the years passed,

In an instant, 38 years have passed.

In those passionate years,

It often echoes in my mind.

It was the spirit of the Corps that taught me to grow up.

It is the revolutionary courage of the old army reclamation soldiers.

Inspired me to run to the other side of my ideal.

I cherish my youth,

I want the fiery youthful fighting spirit,

On the beautiful farm,

Write a new chapter in history,

Carry forward forever in Gobi oasis.

Youth Modern Poetry 3 Crossing the Wind and Rain

Walk through gorgeous youth

A song, a dream.

Looking back is the years.

Make public unnecessary confession

What is hidden is the past that no one has mentioned.

Juvenile unruly

What is the fear of He Huan's death?

You pretend to be deep and not afraid of romance.

I would like to be the sand chasing the wind.

Rich pen and ink

Waiting for the ruthless letter raft.

From then on, it is the end of the world.

Years are like songs, and deep feelings are like me.

Memories scattered by the wind

Leaves fall and cry

Submerged in the river of time

Young you passed away like a cloud.

It has become an unattainable beauty.

Last night, I mentioned a season of dullness.

Your smile is as pure as yesterday.

There is no need to talk about right and wrong.

Fate is predestined.

The heart is still in love.

Appreciate the happiness that years have given each other.

Modern poetry of four years of youth.

Running around, busy

I cried, I laughed, I was crazy, I was crazy.

The sky at an angle of 45 degrees turned out to be different.

Memory brand

Fine, small, deep and shallow

The wind blew through the mark and left it behind.

Looking back on the past days, maybe it is color, maybe it is black and white.

But after all, I laughed and laughed.

Love and friendship

True, false, sad, sad

Only the heartbeat can make you understand.

Stick to your efforts.

Even if it only blooms without fruit.

I have also seen the beauty of a tree and the romance of a tree.

Sensible thoughts

Hesitate, daze

Who doesn't have his own sadness and stubbornness in his youth?

But time is like running water. How much of our youth will stop because of such sadness?

Write and draw.

The beautiful handwriting on the white paper left a monologue inside.

Multicolored pigments depict a colorful future.

probably

We haven't fully understood it yet.

probably

Doomed to be baptized by wind and rain

It's almost summer again

Remember that summer, who lost time?

......

It was written a long time ago by imitating a friend's monologue. It looks a little empty and flashy, but so what? Everyone has the habit of expressing himself, which is not easy to change. Sometimes we know it's against the rules, but we still insist as always, just hoping that someone can understand.

I used to be young and frivolous.

I used to sing songs about wine.

Spring flowers and autumn moons sigh.

I also went to the next floor and said that I was worried about assigning new words.

I am young and young.

Like to point out mountains and rivers

Passionate words

Although not a singer

But I am eager to have a high-profile stage.

Although not a saint

But I hope my work has a long history.

When I put down my schoolbag

Walk through the classroom with loud and clear books

When I walked out of the campus full of melancholy

My dream ran aground on the immature faces of my classmates.

Phoenix-like pain mercilessly gnaws at my young mind.

When I operate a machine taller than me.

When flour erodes my skirt and heart.

Teasing when no one is watching.

Ring from the ear

My heart is broken all over the floor.

Face life

Stubborn, I will hold my head high.

Just to keep the tears from flowing.

When I get stronger, I always smile.

Just because I don't want to see those anodyne eyes

Although bitter and tired.

I will still tell my family: I am fine!

but

Only I know.

That year, my dream no longer lingered.

Only I know.

That year my youth lost its way.

In the dead of night

The memory of the wind

Knock on the window lattice

Facing the sad star child in the night sky

I shed tears of sadness.

Only then.

I will restore my true self in my life.

Cruel reality

Step on the pain I can't bear to touch

Swallow a helpless heart silently.

I know there are no beautiful fairy tales in my world.

I know my future is just a cruel dream.

That's when it started.

I no longer think about where the little match girl followed her grandmother.

Stop thinking about whether Cinderella's glass shoes are on her feet.

I stopped thinking about the ugly duckling turning into a white swan and flying into the blue sky.

Not to mention whether the lone wolf in Siberia is still wandering on the grassland.

I only understand

The road in front of me

Rough and prickly

Experienced a painful licking.

I began to be strong.

Since life doesn't believe in tears

Why should I be sad?

That year my youth lost its way.

I began to look for my dream in the book.

blossom and fall of flowers

poverty-stricken

Walk on the road without hesitation

Modern Poetry of Youth 6 Walking on the Road of Youth

The drizzle wet my face.

We stepped on the foggy gravel.

Looking forward to the other shore wandering in this pond

Flowing all the way

Follow loss and confusion

Trapped in a sad cell

Walk on the road of youth

Half happy and half sad.

But the direction of the eyes

The road ahead is always sunny.

Thorns along the way

Can't fade the fragrance of Lagerstroemia indica

Yesterday's rain

Don't get wet today's luggage.

Walk on the road of youth

On the left is the past, and on the right is confusion.

There is deep sadness flowing in the middle.

Hesitant steps on sadness.

Sadness is printed in the middle of the road.

Quiet is needed in blue days.

Then look at the blinds alone.

Watch the drunken sunset.

Like a drunken bride

Look at the drifting white clouds.

Cover it with gorgeous wedding makeup.

And then put the young blood

Fill the chest to form light.

Release the pigeons of hope

Soaring the blue sky of dreams

Let the warm spring breeze

Frostbite that soothes the soul

Flowering poplars.

Accompany us to the end of time

Walk on the road of youth

The destination is far away.

We should ride the wind and waves.

Chasing falling meteors in dreams.

Pursuing the mysterious and beautiful moonlight

On the day of running.

There will be no leisure to count the sorrows.

In a complete journey

After years of nourishment, flowers are everywhere.

Walk on the road of youth

We should hold our heads high.

Let the heat in your heart

Burn into a never-setting sun

Let the wind come all the way

Blow away the gluttony past

It has become a fish mouth in the vicissitudes of life

Ferment into faith

Lift your shoulders.

Walk on the road of youth

Flowers bloom on the left hand side and fall on the right hand side

palpitate

Not old. time

Dream hometown

Still the same as before.

A hurried figure

But gradually elongated and elongated. ...

I want to go back to the old tile house.

How I want to hear grandma's parents again.

The pendulum on the wall never stops.

It seems to be laughing at me and saying

Absurd, absurd ...

Youth Modern Poetry 7 Songs of Youth

Youth is a symbol that records all the happiness and troubles. ...

Youth is a faint watercolor.

Strong or weak.

What is outlined is a kind of charm.

I draw with eyeliner.

Lip-painted graffiti

Cherish her beauty and my young smile vortex.

Youth is a clear spring.

Deep or shallow

It reflects all kinds of things.

I put hibiscus on my face.

Bundle hair with aquatic plants

Kiss her face with my purplish lips.

Youth is a journey.

Is it far or near?

The harvest is a kind of mood.

I walk barefoot.

Binocular photography

Embrace her body with my round arms.

Youth Modern Poetry 8 Chasing Dreams

It is life that keeps me going.

Sunshine fades away from youth.

Vitality began yesterday.

The next step is to ponder life.

The sky is full of girls' laughter.

The moon gives me tenderness.

I gave it to youth.

Youth uses tenderness as a gift.

Give it to the girl.

Water breeds the purity of girls.

I'm still running next.

Although tired.

Although bitter.

Although it's boring.

But isn't all this for firmness?

The glass is broken.

Heartbroken more thoroughly.

Glass carries the temperature of youth.

I had to kneel down.

Lift the spilled baby

Youth Modern Poetry 9 "Youth" Text/Xi Murong

All endings have been written.

All the tears have also flowed out.

I suddenly forgot what kind of beginning this was.

On that ancient summer day that is gone forever.

No matter how hard I pursue it,

Young you are just passing by.

And your smile is extremely shallow.

Gradually disappeared into the mist after sunset.

Then open the yellow title page.

Fate has bound it badly.

I looked at it again and again, with tears in my eyes.

But I have to admit.

Youth is a book that is too hasty.

Modern youth poetry 10 train wheels

Friction railing

Far away, find traces of survival.

Sparks and heat melt into mud.

Don't want to go, don't want to die.

The moment of burning

Countless little lights ruined life.

Just want to stop and look at the bird's nest.

You can't just rust.

If the moment of life

Turn to dust, the price of love

Can't afford it.

Dirty, hot, cold and sacred

Looking for the unknown road

Stop, it's a little white

One wheel, one generation.