精華區beta poetry 關於我們 聯絡資訊
'Tis the rose on the high peak, Guarded by mist and cold distance. Hereafter I know I am deadly sick, But dare I only cast a far glance. Why not turn and go? A backward glimpse, and lo! Flippant fingers from floppy fog, Pluck the pretty petals and bud. The broken red, flying, then fall, Into the dirt I, a man, to belong. -- Amor vincit omnia. -- ※ 發信站: 批踢踢實業坊(ptt.cc) ◆ From: 140.119.196.105
EddyGuitar:有音樂性 也有用技巧 Good job 140.122.218.79 06/20 00:04