Confessions of the Lowly
The clock ticks on, a relentless beat, For those whose wallets know defeat. CPF untouched, a morbid dread, "Will I live long enough?" hangs overhead. A lottery ticket, a four-digit dream, A fragile hope, a fleeting gleam. "Investment," they sigh, with weary smiles, For a chance to escape these thankless miles. Canned beans and noodles, a convenience store's fare, A cheaper sustenance, a burden to bear. Hawker's delights, a luxury untold, As every dollar must be closely controlled. Government handouts, a much-needed grace, A small reprieve in this relentless race. Vouchers clutched tight, a lifeline so thin, Stretching each cent, to somehow just win. Across distant seas, the parcels arrive, Taobao's allure, where savings survive. Local shops suffer, a silent lament, As budgets dictate where each dollar is spent. Retirement's a whisper, a faraway shore, Two jobs, or maybe more, forevermore. Community spirit, a vibrant display, But time is a thief, stea...