His temper was legendary.

No fools he gladly suffered,

Nor tolerated, frivolity,

Despised by many, feared by most,

His word was law.

 

The colonial master unshackled,

The ablest of men by his side,

A master plan envisioned,

Single-mindedly executed,

Our nation shaped accordingly.

 

A half-century on,

Of “peace, prosperity, and progress”,

From “Third World To First”;

Much envied in the region,

This ‘Little Red Dot’.

 

Yet on this eve of ‘SG50’,

A departure untimely,

His people unready,

The nation mourns truly,

Our founding father Harry.

 

Now the murmurs of discontent,

Grow ever resoundingly,

His shadow hangs heavy,

His legacy unsteady.

So where do we go from here?

 

© 2015 Silvester Phua