It is because life is full of unsatisfactory things that I want to achieve perfection in poetry.
I saw my own shadow in the literary grandmother. Someone once asked me, what's the point of photographing clouds and flowers all day long, isn't it the same? How could it be the same, I thought to myself. Different weather, different light, different angles, different moods, changing rapidly. They have witnessed the reincarnation of time, and they quietly stood there, watching one story after another happening around them.
[Hey, I'm not crazy. 】
I also saw my own shadow in my weak grandson. They are all raised by the elderly, and they are a little tired of being inseparable. Although he is not as rebellious as Sun Tzu, he sometimes appears impatient. It seems that he never cared about the feelings of the old man and acted recklessly. I'm sorry, but I don't know how to apologize. You can't wait until you lose to regret it.
Is the ending destined to belong to literature and art...
PS: Grandma's dress is so beautiful, elegant and quiet.
View more about Poetry reviews
