https://pixabay.com/photos/400%E2%80%93500-violet-tulip-purple-blue-3176417/
Earth is one-thirteenth degree
It tilts and rotates.
I wrote this poem at the age of twenty-three.
When the sky is brown, it is brown.
I cry when I cry.
When you wake up after a dream, you wake up.
When I'm smart, I get bad again.
It may not be too early to get out of bed.
I may not even want to talk about how much I love him.
White lies will gradually become a habit.
I forgot about love.
author:@winkyaw