The country I wish I could love.

About this nation, I long to say these words without holding back a mite of affection:
Oh Singapore, I adore every grain of sand on your beauteous isle, each grain a genuine purchase from the shores of Indonesia and gleaming with bleached whiteness in the sun.
I pledge to defend you from shore to ever-expanding shore, oh milk-generous motherland. Upon your grade A breasts do our best, most educated minds suckle, so they mayst govern with enlightenment.
I dream of the day when I may free my now-trammelled soul to sing of my island home, with right hand over my heart, as a patriotic tear trickles down my right cheek, and fall upon the sacred ground (more precious than gold, and ever-appreciating in value per square foot, day by glorious day!)
To feel a wash of pride as I gaze upon the annual fireworks, each spark making a statement about our IRAS statements whilst flashing across costly national airspace.
But instead, I must abashedly admit, that when invaders mock your laws and culture, I sometimes nod in agreement.
Because banning chewing gum is stupid in anyone's books, even those branded EM3.