Taking a loop on my way to ngee ann seemed predestined.
it was a golden opportunity to take in the sights and sounds of the frenzied world -
a world i have been living in oblivion of, with much intent.

In the distance was a couple perched on a bicycle.
a black, rusty, dingy one, as i distinctly remember.
clad in simple garb, their young faces already lined with worry.
i swear, they couldn't have been older than my eldest sister.
yet, in their eyes, i caught a glimpse of love and contentment.

it wasn't for gaudy clothes, or flashy cars.
it was for unspoken love, polished and toughened by the hard times.
or was it worn out and evanescenced?

Somewhere after i fell to silent introspection,
i waited with a book in hand, quite sullenly.
It was a bus-stop at a less well-to-do place.

there was no way i could glue my eyes to the book.
an old lady swaggered to where i was.
her straggly hair, crude words, loud voice
altogether made a much more interesting source than mere words.

she cursed; she swore
she lifted her dress; she scratched
she spat, she cursed again

it wasn't for want of attention, or candid cameras.
it was for true expression of distaste, however unwelcome.
or was it weariness of the civil heart, let down once and again?

It's a gloomy day, the very image of my turmoil.
if i were to continue anymore,
i reckon i'd not make it to awake tomorrow morn -
for my leaden heart would have cracked apart.