<h1>The Unknown Generation (Outer Three Songs) | Chen Baoan</h1>
Nobody
Always looking in all directions
Looking for the first path
Wave your hand behind you
Shake your head forward
There is no want to come to the rescue
I was destined to get lost at this intersection
why bother
Let go of that freedom
What a pain, choose such a path
It is a command from a past life
It is the gift of this life
Who knows, my heart is too small
The small ones can't hold anything
Want to seize the opportunity
I wandered in a small world
The next second I was ready to go to sleep
In my nameless generation
Life was as free as the wind
It was I who put myself back in chains
It's also called a dream
My dreams are too light, too light
Like a feather
Never fly high
I want to put the dream
Chew along with yourself
Taste it for yourself
Everyone is looking for something to rely on
But I was lost at the intersection
With my little sorrow and joy
There is nowhere to put it anymore
I'm a nobody
Born in the ordinary will also return to the ordinary
<h1>Autumn colors</h1>
Wind and rain in the north
With a faint sense of sorrow
Cooled off for an autumn
White mist clears in the afternoon
Blades of grass dance with the wind
Can you remember that you are on your way home
The rain wet the clothes
Lingering autumn colors
Look at the blue sky
What should be kept when the dead are lost?
Look back in silence
The drizzle in the mountains is still there
Redemption becomes emptiness
Let the wind and rain wet everything
But an autumn dream
Mo Ruo early
I am afraid that I have missed the bitter wine in my arms
<h1>Mornings in the countryside</h1>
Wake up in a dream in a country morning
There may still be a little saliva at the corner of the mouth
Birds that have been chirping for a long time
The smell of cooking smoke lingers in your ears
The early risers still carry the exhaustion of last night
The cooking smoke is mixed with a strong smell of rice
Auntie's figure is a bit awkward
In the distance, the traffic is wrapped up in the shouting
Under the locust tree at the mouth of the village
Tourists from the south to the north are endless
The morning in the countryside was a bead of sweat flowing from A-Mei's face
The renovated land carries next year's harvest
The morning in the countryside was the old sweat smoke in Daddy's mouth
A simple smile on a weathered face
It was a cool morning
The sun was still asleep in the clouds
Wander through the country fields
Dewdrops on the grass
Wet all my indulgence
Sunset
Wandering in the Steel Forest
The shadow behind him walked and stopped
Everyone had no expression on their faces
The wind casually blew the hair
Crappy poems are always unsung
So what?
Wave your hand and say goodbye to the setting sun behind you
The concrete reflects the light of the setting sun
I didn't bother to imagine
That unfinished article
Just let me revel in this sunset
The yearning that cannot be desired
Irreparable injuries
It's no longer what it was
About author:Chen Baoan, pen name: Half Knife, 35 years old, from Tangshan City, Hebei Province. "Nine Celestials" contract writer, "Literary Creek" contract writer, "Huaxia Poetry Xintiandi" member, "Blue Creek Poetry Society", "Shuishui Poetry Society Member". His works have been scattered in the "Shishui Poetry Journal", "Literary Creek", "Liaoning Individual and Private Economy", and the prose poem "Sky" won the third prize in the National Competition of Three Words and Two Words in the South Side Literature and Art Competition.
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