As Julian says, “To be Honest” [Not Julian Dalbert but Julian Tan]
Life here is a little funny, you meet people here and then
Wonder why? Is it alcohol or is the Clarke Quay or the memories of Phnom Penh
No matter where ever you be,
This little heart wants to break free
Alone, when I look at your pictures on Facebook,
I don’t miss you at all, I miss the essence of you in that bracelet (Red in color)
Time would or should say, I should be over you,
But that thought of you, that image of you – Think of a Winter Sunday morning dew
It says on the leaf till the impatient wind displaces it off the quadrant
am I your expression or are you my constant?
It just might be this particular night that I might wonder,
You’re still there, here and to that fact; I surrender. (I wish)
Math might not be the right way to display my affection
but what about you and memories of you, there’re in my heart like an art collection?
I’m not an artist and I’m not an curator
To me; my heart, you and that mistake leaves me with a significant crater
With a hope that someday I will move on to become a person you always wanted me to be,
Make me a choice, give me that option; make me an invitee.