A poem last night

Self-portraits

Because of ignorance, what can't be said
My front and back roads
Misty smog

I want to be a simple person
Be a sincere person
Just like the reeds I was familiar with from an early age
Speak in withered winter

However, my surroundings
Only the increasingly bright steel structures
And words that will never sprout in the mud
That person's face is vague

Everything will change
I have said this to myself more than a dozen times.
But I am still in the mirror.
Uncomfortable me
This abandoned person with great vitality

Only stimulus defended my existence
Stay away from crazy moments
Forgetting is the only thing God has to offer.

I still believe that person exists.
Just like mivas believing in angels
I believe this makes it easier for me to be more secure --
I think that one day that person will come to me
Or I will review that person

As if we met him on the road
But I remember it for a long time.
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S has arrived in Shanghai. This morning, we should arrange a hot slice sling to take a look. It is said that Shanghai will be cooling down 2-9 degrees, and suddenly admire the model profession.
Well, don't be frozen, dear.