Detours be the best
Walk in silence of Everest
From a hill we look below
(Please don't go)

Cards we play
Your commentary, hurray!
I sit by, winning in a row
(Please don't go)

From friends to more
A smoke we score
So high, walk a road
(Please don't go)

Starry evening
Drawing cheesy dream
We sit together low
(Please don't go)

Write some more!
Random? sure!
Pages we tore
(Please don't go)

In a car, we ride
a little far, no fright
Tell funny stories yo
(Please don't go)

Surprise tight kiss
Rubbed my lower lips
Taking it slow
(Please don't go)

My heart beat you hear
Together we cheer
Let the liking flow
(Please don't go)

Random things be cool
Stay here my fool
So much to show
(Please don't go)

We pack our things
A new day to begin
Our reflection's glow
(Please don't go)

Wait a moment or two
Time flies for us few
My heart says no
You say "PLEASE DON'T GO."

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, tell me what suits,
Soft natural highlights, or strong punk roots?
Auburn red or beach blonde hair,
Brunette with greens, or short blunt rare?

Mermaid midnight old balayage blues,
Grey ombré curled with lilac hues?
Lemon yellow paint or neon spice,
Purple color that matches my hazel eyes!

Tousled, textured, twirled and twined,
We could take it to the front, or let it all behind.
Black hair with beautiful mahogany dye,
Fringes looking pretty every day passing by.

Straight hair with an asymmetrical bob,
Lips painted red, formal and hot.
Tie buns and bows with colorful clips,
Grow pink hair long, till they reach my hips.

Fish tail braid like a Boho chic,
All pastel shades spread, across the width.
Blonde and bright, they are in my sight,
Soon to be a celebrity, wearing them uptight.

Burgundy wine perm, crazy long,
Every hair color has a song.
There are chances that they may look all wrong,
But hey! I'm not scared to just play along!

The absence of your fellowship is felt severely
My friend, here and now, you're missed dearly

Maybe we were wrong, maybe we were blind
Teach us in your absence for we may be kind

Let me forgive myself as I watched you slowly bleed
For I am responsible, no matter who did the deed

With whom do I now share this off-colour joke?
With whom do I now share this 4 am smoke?

I was sure someday we were meant to part ways
Never did it cross my mind, numbered were your days

My mind screams when I think back and see the smoking gun
Brother I never called you, but forever you shall be one

I spend my days in front of a screen
We're all entitled to our own illusions
The chicken or the egg

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street

Rubbing its back upon the window panes

There will be time

There will be time to prepare a face

To meet the faces that you meet

There will be time to ****** and create

And time for all the works and days of hands that lift a hand to drop a question on your plate

Time for you and time for me

And time yet for a hundred indecisions

And time for a hundred visions and revisions

Before the taking of a toast and tea

It was past 10 pm
Indian Standard Time
And the score was
Two O Five

Klusener was the launcher
Donald was the Duck

Hansie had the fancy
That he will lift the cup
Seconds ticking
One, two, three, four, five…

Damien Fleming’s the bowler
And he’s known as a troller
Windies was the victim
Eight years ago

Steve Waugh!
The man who made Gibbs drop the cup
Stood there
Like a commander
Klusener like a slaughterer

Yorker’s the marker
To stop the nine runs needed
From the Klusener blade

NOW THE LAST OVER
ONE went for a four
TWO went for a four
Tensions flared up
We are on the proverbial Edge-of-the-seat

Steve stood there
No expression on his face
Hansie's in the pavilion
Like a warrior king

THE THIRD BALL
Damien's running like he do
Yes, bang on target
Klusener's couldn't get it off
Like the way in his earlier knocks off

One run needed in three

Just a recap again

Final over
last pair together
nine to get in six *****
player of the tournament on strike
Successive fours from Lance Klusener
and it was one from four *****

Then came the comedy
for South Africa uniquely in the game's annals
the tragedy of a tie.

Moments before it
Steve Waugh was
As cold as an Iceberg
To the Titanic of South Africa

(To be continued in next part)

Finally, the day a year
people try to guess my costume:

"Oh, this is no costume, I'm just wearing this.
The date is a coincidence.
Still, feel free to guess!"

Thorns given by you with love
can be my garden.

Each mirror shows you two faces
the real, the masked.