When my favorite anthem is on, they act proud, stood up, and sang along. When they sing, their smiles were a plenty pretty, could light up an entire city. Nay, a country. Nay, a continent. Nay, the entire world. This was that kind of country. This is the country full of Muhammads and Ahmeds, Lees and Tans, Dineshs and Aruns. Beautiful names that belong to beautiful people. They had golden brown skin and even sweet dark chocolate tan, something they sometimes forget to appreciate. Something other people would sit under the sun for twelve hours to get (Laughs). These are the names that were promised a life of peace and harmony, a life full with opportunities of the future, a life of freedom, and a life of love. When they decided to call me Malaysia, I accepted proudly with my backboned straightened, and they even had an oath to uphold just for me and it goes like this: Achieving a greater unity of all the people; Maintaining a democratic way of life; Creatin...
The Art of Love Society. I write poems for one person.