Daily good poems ｜ When I pass the bright floor glass

When I pass the bright floor glass

Text/Ye Xiaosong

When I pass the bright floor glass

I found the former alpine flowing water

The letter of love returns to the place again

This is the forest I love

Perseverance, preference, two physical body

In order to protect the weakness in my heart

The sun actually made my shadow uneven

Those aunts who listen to it

You don't have to be afraid of counting crimes and punishment

When I pass the bright floor glass

I am studying even and strange numbers

Will the sun be with the moon

Cohabiting a room ...

Then, then, then

Dear, the embankment of thousands of miles

Perhaps it is not destroyed by an ant hole. Anthront

Just a appearance

It's like the ants who have been killed by the neck ten thousand years ago

They hold me into the room

Put it on the bed, look at the beast of time

This kind of law is not allowed

What is the campaign and kill, what is the hell

use. Intersection

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Ye Xiaosong, who reads the natal crown of sleeping poetry, was born in 1964, corporate workers, net names, Purmens (Firebur) poetry writing enthusiasts. Some poems are included in "Spring Blossoms of Reading Sleeping Poems" and "Cao Long Ying Flying on Sleeping Poems". The language of poetry is unique, the poetic is agile, and is good at digging out the poetic soil from the silhouette of life, and the castle that builds poetry. Poetry has its own unique meaning and special, and has a certain degree of recognition.

Pay attention to sleeping, poetic habitat

Facing the sea, looking for light with black eyes. On November 16, 2015, the Poetry Society of Sleeping Poetry Club, the Poetry Club took the mission of "speaking for grassroots poets" and the purpose of promoting the "spirit of poetry", that is, the pursuit of the truth, kindness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, and the spirit of poetry. Poetry friends have been published in the collection of poems "The Spring Blossoms of Sleeping Poems" and "The Grass Ying Ying Flying on Sleeping Poems".

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