I instinctively crumpled a piece of paper into a ball and threw it into my autumn diary
I want to tell Autumn what to write for me and the fallen leaves
Moonlight returns, sitting cross legged
Pulling the shadows of all things very, very long
If possible, I would like to be a goldfish living in the water
Let a poem flow in my body, and carry the continued sadness into a pebble
But what time doesn't know is that its own value is just a few small euros
It cannot cover the easily extinguished fireworks of the human world
When the wind comes, migratory birds also fly back
Shed the hustle and bustle of the past, and go to cater to the melancholy that has not yet arrived
I think I will be stationed in the bonfire lit by autumn dusk
Then write a poem about autumn
Send it to the mountains, rivers, and soil parallel to me thousands of miles away
Leave the time of loving someone to a distant place where no grass grows
Tell yourself quietly again, don't sigh anymore, don't be emotional anymore
The ideal of losing age, under the gaze of autumn frost, droops old
The only road to my hometown, winding and bumpy in my hands, rustling
Actually, about the appreciation of love
It's nothing more than chatting about the past of life to the sky and the earth, letting the melodious sounds pass by in the gaps of daylight
Chisel open the wall in the clouds until the mist wets the cheeks in the mirror
Embrace the scent of autumn, brush your sleeves and fall asleep
No one wants to love me, if there were, it would be a whole lingering autumn.
