He is never someone else to me.
He is not a foreign soul,
he resides in the neighbourhood of my heart for years
my mother loves him
and he joins every family gathering
We shared the Big Apple;
the sunsets in Manhattan overviewed
by tall, glass skyscrapers.
I never see him any different
from classrooms to ballrooms
first class flights to private jets
intimate drinks at the bar to
lavish family parties
the comparisons are outnumbered
by my long live adoration
Why do everyone has to tell that we are different
the Lion City is not even a lion
and there is nothing wrong with that,
why would our upbringings
and last names matter when
just like any other people
our love is just..
“love”.
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