My stomach acid suddenly decides to be adventurous.
Without a passport, they travel up.
Little do they know, they’re not the most refined tourists,
Leaving a trace of blazing pain in my throat.
The body is not the most adaptive object.
To accommodate, only congee can pass my lips,
Their grand voyage has chased away 2kgs,
The weight that probably didn’t belong to me in the first place.
I can still hope, one day the acid will grow up,
And settle down in their homeland.
Only then can I live peacefully,
And work to win back the heart of my dear kilograms.
Just like an average person, Vinton Poon assumes many different identities. To name a few (not in any particular order), he is a son, a lecturer, a badminton enthusiast, an extrovert, an elder brother, a debating coach, a semi-Buddhist, an academic, a friend, a hypochondriac, a volunteer, and a pursuer of good tea. [Click here to read all entries by Vinton.]