When you step inside the houses, it's a totally different story.
In some small houses, we are close, and it's a home. While in some big houses, it's nothing but an empty shell.
Redhill
I witnessed beautiful families
Something i envy
They might be lacking some
But they have so much more
Some things in their home might be breaking
But their family is as one
For some, we just live together. It's simply a roof over our head. We come back to this place we call home, only to return to our own rooms. Everyone suddenly becomes busy, doing their own things, it's like.. we're not even a family. It's like the other person doesn't even exist. Maybe, we're so used to their presence we take it for granted.
All this makes me wonder, do we even have a family? Or are we.. all alone.
in Singapore, this place, we call.. home.
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