During my trip to Italy, on the train from Pisa to Florence. I wrote a little poem.
Usually, I'm pretty much okay doing things alone. I frequently shop alone in Singapore, find it therapeutic, being lost in my own thoughts, dreaming, thinking, but on the train to Florence, I was hit by waves of sadness and loneliness. I closed my eyes, leaned against the window, hoping to sleep and that when i woke up, I would be my usual self again. I saw myself at home, having steamboat with my family, watching tv, shopping with friends, eating at restaurants. It was all so wonderful, I felt the warmth all around me, heard their laughters but soon realized that I was only day dreaming. For that one moment of pleasure, I became even more depressed. That night, was the my most difficult night since I reached here.
And so, on the train, i wrote a little poem.
《寻家》
离乡孤人千里外
乘车寻忧赏花香
夜降归宿终思乡
几回入眠梦寻家
P.S. 第一次写诗，该让别人看吗？