I still want to wander

It's for the dream that never came true

The shackles of care

It makes people feel a lot more melancholy

Whether to give up or to persevere

There will always be some sadness in my heart

Hard-earned wealth

Poetry with the morning and twilight wants

Meditation is always fruitless

When the prosperity ends

When the glory is the death

What else do I have left

I still have one hand left that wants to write poetry

In fact, people are often contradictory, just like Zhong Guolong at this time, even he doesn't know what he is for, he wants to give up a comfortable life to be a wanderer, in the three southern provinces, he monopolizes the right to operate two express delivery companies in China, but that is one of the top express delivery companies in China, although he is not like the big boss of the express delivery headquarters known to the world, that is also famous in the express delivery industry, and the income of the daily income can support him to live a luxurious life day after day. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

But two months ago he decided to give up that life and live a life of wandering, driving his eye-catching and jealous Jaguar sports car as he does now, with all the swagger of the world. Being a poet is just an excuse for him, but in fact, he has a secret hidden in his heart, a secret that he doesn't want to know, and this secret is precisely because of the encounter with Confucius, and he doesn't know how many things have been poured into his airtight castle.

To be honest, Zhong Guolong deceived Confucius at the dinner table, he deliberately described himself as a lottery player who became rich overnight, but he didn't want people to know too much about his past, and at the same time, he also wanted her to enjoy a luxurious life with peace of mind.

Even he didn't know that Confucius, who only knew one side, was so willing to be extravagant and wasteful, just a casual remark, but he did his best for him.

In the past three days, Zhong Guolong still can't figure out why Confucius is so memorable to him, she hasn't said anything that moved him, and she hasn't done anything out of the ordinary. But her voice, which was neither humble nor arrogant, was like the bell of the bell tower, which rang in his heart from time to time.

He shook the red wine in his hand, which was already a habit for him to pass the boring time, taking a sip from time to time, letting a trace of bitterness dilute the emptiness and bitterness of time, and then let time collide with alcohol to hit the starlight he wanted, which was what the poet called inspiration.

He really wanted to do something for Confucius, to calm the heart that was stirred by her. But he was afraid of falling into the hands of the people, and he was afraid of being rejected, so he never dared to do so, because these affected his mood of visiting the mountains and rivers and watching the flowers and the moon in the past few days.

After pacing in the luxurious room for a long time, there was not much red wine left in the glass. Then he took out his mobile phone from his pocket, opened WeChat, and accepted Confucius's addition to him, and then a line of small print appeared on the phone screen. "You've added Confusiena too, now you can start chatting. Looking at this line of small words, he couldn't help but smile shyly, as if he had done the right thing on the road of life.

Looking at WeChat, he always wanted to say something to Confucius, but he didn't know what to say. After hesitating for a long time, he still sent her a message. "I'll send you a poem"

"Absolutely. Confucina immediately replied to him.

Zhong Guolong hesitated for a long time, and Confucius couldn't help but urge. "Great poet, hurry up, I'm waiting for the poem you wrote for me, what it is, see if you can move me. ”

"Okay. Looking at Confucius's language, Zhong Guolong seemed to be full of vitality all of a sudden. The shy smile made his mature face full of charm, a charm that could not be refused, although it was invisible to others, but it was revealed on his face at this time.

"I want to write poems to you

It's because I have feelings in my heart

I don't want that chance encounter to be a big deal

I don't want to say that your beautiful appearance will be fascinating

Maybe after a few days of separation, I will forget your face

But your gentle voice

It's like the city's bell tower

It's like the water of a stream

Pounding on my heart."

After writing it, Zhong Guolong sent it to her, and Confucius replied to him. "What kind of poem am I writing here, I can't understand anything. What do you mean. ”

"It's not interesting, it's just a feeling. I can't say it, I can't describe it with feelings. ”

"That's not saying nothing. ”

That's what poetry wants. ”

Just because Zhong Guolong wrote a few lines to Confucius, and chatted with her on WeChat for a while, Confuciana never slept well all night, she had to admit that she already had an inexplicable feeling for him, and even had an inexplicable fantasy, expecting him to be by her side and accompany her to say a few words. She had to admit that her heart was also stirred by him, and she couldn't sleep.

In just a few words, Zhong Guolong was not sending a message, maybe he was going to finish what he said to her today, maybe he was writing a poem again, she didn't want to think about it, anyway, at this time, Confucius felt beautiful in her heart, and she was self-absorbed for a long time, and she felt a kind of loss of her name.

Seriously, she has never been so attracted to a man, like a fan. wants to peel off the mystery and see what kind of man he is, even the handsome young man in her school doesn't have the one that attracts her so much.

There was no information about Zhong Guolong for a long time, and Confucius couldn't help but open the poems in Zhong Guolong's notebook. This is what Confucius has done the most in the past few days, looking at the poems one by one, she feels that the mystery is peeling off layer by layer.

It is said that poetry is the representative of the soul,

And I use it as a bridge,

Want to access the world of your heart.

I know that our world is separated by the ocean,

I don't have the ticket you gave me.

So I can only be so lucky,

Write a hymn for you every day and sing it.

It's like building a bridge for yourself,

I know that these days are long and long.

But I am full of the light of confidence,

I'm sure I'll be in your heart,

Make terrifying waves.

Then open your heart,

Slowly flowing towards me.

This is Zhong Guolong's poem written in his notebook, there are more than 100 poems, this is just one of them, called "I want to send a poem to you", I don't know who he wrote it to, only he knows who he wrote it for, but today Confucius picked this poem to read, and when it came out of Confucius's mouth, it made her face flush with countless ruddies. She also seems to have an expectation that a man will write poetry for her like he does.