Well—
and there is no shame in this—
you could emigrate, and just be done with it.
Honestly, I would have done the same
if not for how hard it has been
to say that I hate this place.
It’s not anything that is wrong with those who did;
it is I, who have been made in so much stupid, senseless empathy
who can not bring myself to give in.
To acknowledge that no matter how many things I acknowledge,
there is no way to change what is fundamentally selfish,
and what is unmistakeably helpless,
when you look at it through the finely-threaded lines
of decision-mating,
of Kevin Martens-baiting,
of being sent home in tears, regardless
of how much you’ve done for Singapore.
How much you could have done, in terms of something more
for yourself, in the ways that things
that should never have been said or thought
these things have instead been fearfully and quietly sought.
I want you to know, in the end
that my soul could not be bought;
no matter what they threw at me
the Lion City hath no fury
like a Merlionsman’s justified and gentle might, unfairly fought.