In the MRT

I sat and watch, look and ponder
The gushing wind sound, railways and stations
I look and stare, the red white sandals at front
The imagination reminiscing or foretelling my impression?

I sat and sulk, sigh and hope
The ring lingers, the thought is bitter
I lost myself, again to daydreaming
The time is early, awaken by train station

I am still sitting, empty and tired
Unsure of reason, fatigue or over thinking
I sat and exhale, better and stronger
a hope I am holding to? or lying to myself?

I know the difference, wanting to be wanted
Inventing my own world, fantasy and story
I create that ending, loosely based
No one to fill in, disappears in thin air

I sat and sulk, awaken by friend
The same ol sound, the same ol thoughts
I wonder how, a month by months
The same ol thoughts, the same ol place

I invent my world, so frequent and vivid
The same invention, fallen at dreams
I reinvent the destroyed, only to be plagued
Am I silly, or is this contentment

I walk and exit, thinking about visits
Planning his intentions, fabrication of my story
I bit my lips, hopefully to be awaken
Anticipating the return, a never ending continuity