他向命运低头了                                                                                                                                                                     

屈服于生活                                                                                                                                                                                        

不再闹腾                                                                                                                                                                                    

烈日下的阳光像针刺在他身上                                                                                                                                                    

汗水像雨滴般落下                                                                                                                                                                    

黝黑的脸庞透着麻木的气息                                                                                                                                                             

两只瞳孔失去了光芒                                                                                                                                                                            

像黯淡的夜明珠                                                                                                                                                                                     

他不再有诗与远方                                                                                                                                                                                   

他像一台机器                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

一遍又一遍地重复着机械式的动作