A Singaporean Childhood

This is a story of growing up in beige HDB flats
High-rise homes that dot the lavender sunset
Of void-deck soccer, of sizzling kachang putehs
And of the kids in khaki shorts and white, loose singlets
As their jubilant laughter fill the air around
Of the napping tabby cat hiding in the drain, waiting to be found
This is a tale of gazing at the fluffy, cotton-candy pink clouds
Sauntering across the sky, smiling back at me in the crowd
Of the turquoise-tinted waves that gently lick my feet
And the salty refreshing breeze at Sentosa, feeling so free
Like I am a mermaid perched atop a sun-kissed boulder
Sending off every batch of snow-capped surging breakers
It’s also a tale of the mosaic tiled playground below the block
About the mama shop to where the neighbourhood kids flock
To buy the latest duelling gadgets, well, essentially country flag erasers
I almost had a full collection too when I was younger
And beam as my little pals admire the world in my hands
There’s also patterns made by deft fingers with rubber bands
Simplistic games like “Zha”, “Ji Go Pak” and “Pepsi Cola”
This is also a memory weaved by the fragrance of Kopi O
Caramel hued Teh Tarik, crunchy sweet Kaya Toast
And the minutes and seconds that make up this legacy
Of my Singaporean childhood, of an everlasting story

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