This day makrs hence,
third day whence,
my home country left,
to come to foreign land.
The Sun here's hot as fires hell,
but not as so, where the PAP dwell.
the weather here, is as dry as dry permits,
sweat that refuses to be emancipated from mine pores.
The task of which mine neighbour beset upon mine goodly self,
I hath thus completed her divine task with none questions showered,
with but 4 days the heavens hath bestowed upon me remaining.
The hour passes slowly as with the people here,
dragging the days ever so longer.
But O how I dread mine return upon familiar soil,
for which I have to hang up mine identity,
relieve mine loved ones from mine heart,
and put on uniform, to be one like the rest.

bugger that.