Looking back on the campus life in "The Heart of a New Poetry", it is pure nostalgia. When we are busy on the social stage, listening to those vulgar words and watching those utilitarian colors, how much we feel, we can't help but think about how happy we were when we were boys and girls. Everything in the campus, fields and markets was so comfortable, even the dim desires were flawless, and our feelings were life. Only then is the most wonderful and lovely, but at that time we don't understand. Alas-the seed of love, when did I have you in my dream and poetry in my heart? When did I stop being carefree and put my diary casually? I just can't think of it at the moment, but I've always wanted to see you, and I've always enjoyed being with you. I'm looking forward to it. You borrowed an eraser from me, expecting you to find me to solve the problem, and even expecting you to be angry. You are so beautiful when you are angry. Whenever I see your blushing flat mouth, my heart is always pounding. What are the reasons and reasons? When I think of the first flower in my life, I can't help but feel that I have forgotten when I liked you and how many times I have wandered, but I know. Chu clearly remembers that when I walked up to you and listened to my stuttering confession, my heart almost jumped out. Before I finished, you were too ashamed to lift your head. You are too bad to run away from the flowers of love and bloom quietly. We are glad that we expected it, but we can't stop the storm. After the storm, we had to bury the first flower in our lives with tears in our eyes. Ah, there are often no fruits to pick, but there are some beautiful scenery that people will never forget. I don't know if pure love is because youth no longer has too much hypocrisy, which makes people feel disgusted and helpless. In some sleepless nights, I often think of that love, which is an unconscious concern. The anxious expectation is a romantic dream and longing, and the silent missing and wandering is terrible. Knowing the state of mind of amazing questions is a feeling of thinking and thinking, guessing and guessing, but still wondering. Now I have deeply realized its value and loveliness, but I can only sigh-why does pure love disappear so quickly? The nostalgia on campus has always been looking forward to graduating and growing up quickly, but when we really leave and go our separate ways, we find that we have too much. I can't forget it. At that time, our dormitory was our home. We discussed social hotspots and campus culture. We are full of enthusiasm. We listen to music and talk about life. We often play poker for fun. Remember that time? You lost, and your face is covered with little turtles-how wonderful. However, we have passed away. Think about it like the undulating waves. When we are heartbroken and splash every wave, it is our memory, but this is the reality. We have to face the flawless graduation song that can only recall the beautiful friendship of youth. When we write our blessings and understanding in the yearbook, we can't help sobbing and crying. There are beautiful days and nights between us. It is the Reading Festival, and the white homing pigeons unite our world. Many people are high-spirited and sincere, but our homework and studies let us devote ourselves to the development of campus culture, let us think, discuss and pursue disputes, but before we know it, it is July, and we are reluctant to part ways. When we graduate, we have to face the welcome, carry things back, tuck in friendship and wave our hands. Since then, I have been separated from my old schoolbag. When I inadvertently turn to that worn-out schoolbag, I always carry it back and forth to school and seriously accept the teacher's instructions. I also abandoned it and fled to fields, Woods and hillsides with my classmates. I even installed a toad with it. Of course, in the end, I had to be moved. I caressed my old schoolbag and couldn't help laughing, but I didn't feel tears falling, because I knew I would never be young again. I picked up this photo and looked at those familiar faces. Those carefree days suddenly appeared before my eyes. I saw the classroom where we listened and expressed our opinions. I can't help thinking about it. There are countless nights on that grassland, where we look up at the stars, weave dreams and look forward to tomorrow. How can you forget that dormitory? This is our paradise. How many times have we got together to discuss life and give passionate advice? Everything seems to have happened yesterday. How many years have passed in a blink of an eye, although there is infinite attachment to youth in my heart, it will never reappear. I can only write a beautiful poem as a permanent memorial.