i duno her. yet she has become a familiar face around the neighbourhood. at least to me, she is. n i will always feel this surge of sour aftertaste whenever i saw her. cos i know, she does not have much time at her hands for long, just sitting on the wheelchair helplessly everyday with the maid as her companion. wads on her mind, no one knows. waiting for her turn, prob just seems so near, yet so far. i try to avert my gaze everytime, in a way not to show my unpoliteness. but yet, as i walked away from her everytime, i feel this sense of gulit. cos theres nothing i can help her.

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as we grow, we change inevitably.

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who can actualli wait for u?

n who can actualli change, for u?