To not know where's the finish line,
But we swear, we're doing absolutely fine.
At least, we're trying hard this time
To reflect upon the nature of our crimes.

The times we laughed and hugged
Laughed madly as though we're drugged,
And the times we sung of our exploits
To friends' banter that never disappoint.

Lest we forget, times we roamed freely
But failed to enjoy the universe's glory,
Oh the times we're at mamaks watching football
While enjoying roti canai with a side of dhal.

It was small, and as all small things are,
They're always missing from our repertoire.
I'll be sure, the next time we're in luck,
The tighter I'll hold on to every last hug.