My sun
Don't be cornered, locate the sunset virtually
Even if you are injured by the internet
It's still a dustpan of mud
Can't please the moonlight like water
Refers to the entanglement of dreams as horses
It's ridiculous to think about
People creeping in the snow
Think more and desire more
Subtly identify the Mandarin Duck
It is also a failure, but also a shot by the water
Walk through sixty flower armor
Never hurt by love
A toe
A lotus pond
Wings of several frogs
Just put good end of the poem
Pulled out of chapter
Love
As a result, severe internal injuries
Strange and familiar
Thoughts are a disease
Highly contagious
God in your heart
It must be the sun in my heart
There is a girl named Xiaofang
Ignite the mulberry
Years of people, longing
Eager to be scraped to heal
Oh, my sun
Grass tip on
Naked and sharp
The Yellow River flows in a few bends
Heavy words
I wouldn't hand over a gun right away
Perhaps too much emphasis is placed on text
Ignore the metaphor behind it
Be loved or hated
No consensus can be reached
It ended in parting
A complete willow
The heart was choked
And do not dare to take it lightly
Squander the calm sunset
On the water side
Who knocks the wind again towards the direction
The ins and outs of the clouds
Become the lonely one of whom
Saibei, Gangnam
It was still a sharp blade out of its sheath and shot into the small window
Is it okay
A confession that suppressed three hundred and sixty-five days
Can't make a warm debut
One-word greetings
I don't dare to lightly type it into a line of poetry
You say drink a pot of old wine
Lyrical about the past
A phone call came over
The theme is not clear enough
Can see all the bittersweet and sour
Why
It is not an allusion to a poet's wanderings
The poem is written for you so happy and so sad
And that's long
The thread of thoughts
Cut constantly, kite
Where the heart is going to fly
The joy of melting snow is to wait for a spring
Quietly debuting, birds singing
Small window for shower
Image from an editor
Author photo
About the Author
Ren Yonggui: Inner Mongolian poet and writer, special writer of Qilian Literary Magazine. Pen name: Snow and other spring, old man's home. A small person sleeping in a low-lying place, always wanting to climb upwards, crawling between words with difficulty. With a fresh, casual poetic wind, blowing all over the north and south of the river, meeting friends with poetry, refusing lies. Special writer of "Sweat Dripping Rain accompanied by pen cultivation".