There is this thing I want so badly,
Locked inside a gawdly posh box.
The inner desire of me wanting to open that mysterious box,
Only if I knew about its location and wish it was not a hoax.
So many people have entered this phase before,
Most of them succeed here and wants it to be forever in their core.
But well I’m a piece of vagabond, loitering around,
Knowing that the box doesn’t belong to me, I back down.
But somehow, because of some reason, I keep coming back to square one,
The desire of opening the box. An anticipation.
Accidents happen, coincidences happen,
But my desire, well I’m skeptical it would happen.
I come from a happy belonging yet somewhat rigid in their thoughts.
And that’s how I’ve been brought up and now I’m casting lots.
But somehow the freshness in the air has bought a change,
A change in what, I hesitate to name.
But I’m delighted to remind you that my desire, my desire remains the same.