homesickness
When I was a child, homesickness was a small stamp that connected my mother and me.
When I was a child, homesickness was a small stamp. I was here that day, and so was my mother.
When I grew up, I was still homesick, but it became a boat ticket, which I used to sail to my bride on the other side.
When I grow up, I want to get out of the narrow ticket. I'm here and the bride is there.
Then homesickness turned into a grave, with my mother inside and me outside.
Later, homesickness became a temporary grave. I'm outside and my mother is inside.
Now I still feel homesick, but it is a narrow strait that separates me here and the mainland there.
Others.
Now, homesickness is a shallow strait, I am here and the mainland is there.