There was nothing special about that day.
It rained outside the coffee shop, in a very usual Malaysian way.
There was nothing special about that day.
A rush of joy, a surge of youth, in the usual camera play.
There was nothing special about that day.
A million kids, nearly as many doctors and nurses. Fathers
and mothers, and the happily-ever-afters.
What was so special about that day?
I don't know; I was yet to be.
But you were, ahead of me.
Have a blessed one, Yen. ;-)
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