From Where I Stand
by Wan Amira
If life was as easy,
As waiting for a tram and hopping inside,
The hours would be timeless,
Making rules hard to abide.
The pressure is shooting off the roof,
And yet there it is a genuine smile,
Like a certain green suited astronaut once said,
“We’re not falling. We’re falling in style.”
Chances could always be fat or slim,
Like holding a cup of shai to our tired lips,
“Ouch, hot!” or “Ah, nice and warm”,
The aforementioned is not within our finger tips.
So what is it that we seek?
From our mere existence of pit and miss,
Should we glide bravely on our war horses?
Or just settle for as much as this.