amidst the sound of the remaining rain
falling aimlessly from the top of my HDB building
and the warmth of bare naked skin against the cool woolly blankets

staring into the ceiling above
as if able to see the one thing i wish to see
beyond white wash

i close my eyes and huddle closer, cuddle tighter
a baby in need of protection
i think of them

i turned troubled and confused to the side
my spectacles pressed uncomfortable against my temple
i prayed

if only, only if

i am the tin man, devoid of a heart
i am the lion, lacking in courage
i am the scarecrow, in need of a brain
i am dorothy, desperate for home
what a marvellous journey to Oz it will be

but there is no yellow brick road
for me to dance and skip to
only the distant winding valley, echoing my lonely trudge

still the sun has come up and to dry my silent tears
beckoning and encouraging
that i brave it all to find it.