leave this sad place

Chapter 98 Poetry ([-])
"That's right, there are still poems for me to practice writing." His heart slowly fell into a deep sleep like a restless beast.At this moment, he hid his real purpose of writing poetry in a corner of his heart.

Slowly, he felt that his eyelids were getting heavy.Slowly, he also fell asleep.

The rapid ringtone came to my ears again, a beam of light pierced my eyes like a sword, Ouyang smiled wryly and opened his eyes.

"I have to do morning exercises again." He was very unhappy, and had to get up to do exercises again.

"Just wait another year, then you will be in the third year of high school." He comforted himself while putting on his clothes.

Time gradually passed, the sky slowly opened its eyes, and the world gradually became brighter.

Ouyang came to the teaching area and looked at this unfamiliar classroom, feeling a little uncomfortable in his heart.In this class, he knew fewer people, so few that he slowly isolated himself.

"I used to think about what kind of appearance I should spend here, but now I think it's ridiculous." There was a wry smile on his face, sometimes he didn't have to choose by himself, fate had already arranged everything.

Ouyang got up slowly, thinking of going around outside the classroom to get some air.

It is the end of summer and early autumn, and the weather has become cooler.Ouyang stretched involuntarily, and took a deep breath greedily.His eyes flicked slightly, then he settled down, and looked at the classroom of Class 3 with a somewhat complicated expression.

His eyes were a little sad again, and when he turned his head, he saw a yellow leaf slowly falling down from the treetop.

"Have you forgotten?" He asked himself, the long-lost emotion surged in his heart, and the emotion slowly surged again.

He returned to the classroom, picked up a pen and wrote in the notebook:
like the yellow leaves in the autumn wind

falling with a sigh
Oh, yellow leaf
Yellow leaves with sorrow and confusion
It seems to still exude the breath of the past

Oh, yellow leaf
Yellow leaves with sorrow and confusion
It seems to be telling the story of yesterday

Thousands of strands of memory

who wrote bit by bit
Carved into the veins of the rice paddies
Write down the thousands of sorrows
Oh, yellow leaf
Unfortunately I have long forgotten

Forget about the long blue sky
long white clouds

under the cloud

that hot and sincere face

gaze affectionately

murmuring softly

dreamlike happiness
heartbreaking like a dream
Unfortunately I have long forgotten

forget the dreamy tears
overflowing with dreamlike sadness
Sighing the falling yellow leaves

sad and confused
but me,

I have already forgotten
Oh, I already forgot
"Oh, have you already forgotten?" He asked himself again.

"Did I really forget her long ago? Did I really forget every bit of that period of time?" He felt a little more painful in his heart.The so-called long forgotten is just that he is deceiving himself.

Holding the poem in his hand, he read and read, read and read, and suddenly felt an urge to show it to others.

"No." He subconsciously scolded himself, without a trace of reason.It's like a mother who doesn't want to let go of the child in her arms to be held by others.

"Hey, what are you looking at? Can you show me?" Chen Cheng next to him stretched out most of his head, and glanced at the book where the poem was written.

"It's nothing." Ouyang replied subconsciously, and covered it slightly with his hands.

"You're really stingy, and you won't let me take a look." Chen Cheng curled his lips.

Ouyang thought for a while, how could he write poems in the future without showing them to others?Wouldn't it be nice to show others a look and let others give some advice to themselves?

So Ouyang took the poem in his hand to Chen Chengdao: "Okay, here it is, you, read it seriously."

"There's so much nonsense, bring it here." Chen Cheng snatched the poem from Ouyang's hand, making Ouyang's heart twitch slightly.That's his hard work, emotion!

"I, how did I write?" Ouyang watched Chen Cheng finish, and asked anxiously, with a hint of hope in his eyes.

"What are you writing about? The article is not like an article." Chen Cheng looked disdainful.

"Poetry." Ouyang suppressed a word from his throat, feeling a sense of insult in his heart, how could his beloved be so humiliated by others with words?

"Poetry! But why is there no poetic flavor?" Chen Cheng said in surprise.

"Give it back to me." Ouyang couldn't care so much anymore, and snatched it back, not wanting this guy to ruin his beloved work again.

"Cut, isn't it just a poem? As for this?" Chen Cheng looked at Ouyang and was really angry, a little puzzled, and a little disdainful.

"It's you who don't understand poetry!" Ouyang said angrily.At this time, Ouyang had this feeling in his heart: it is okay to insult him, but he cannot insult his beloved poem written by himself.

"Okay, okay, I don't understand. Then don't ask me. If you want to ask, you can ask the teacher yourself." Chen Cheng said impatiently, feeling a little bit annoyed in his heart.

"Teacher, yes, Chinese teacher." Ouyang murmured subconsciously, his eyes brightened a bit.

(End of this chapter)