die ompad is die beste                           the detour is the best
    gedeelte van die reis                             part of the journey
       as jy nie verlore raak nie                          if you don’t get lost
kan jy nie die regte pad vind nie                      you won’t find the right path

as jy ontmiddelik op                                     if unexpectedly you
    jou drome                                                        come­ upon
          aankom                                                      ­              your dreams
              sal  jy veras word                                                         you will be surprised

drome is soos                                           dreams are like
     'n fyn skuldery                                           a fine painting
         elke streel                                                 each stroke
              van die verf                                             of the paint

elke kleur                                                  each colour
       elke toon                                                  each tone
              elke emosie                                              each emotion

uitgedink                                               ­    thought out
uitgebrei                                                    ­expanded

en dan skielik is dit                                  and then suddenly it is
wonderlik                                                  won­derful

No possessive pronouns here
sick and tired of "I"
what exists, what doesn't
no one wonders why

bad habits and dreams
create the self aware
when greater power is knocking
no one's really there

Time is a concept
what if we're proved wrong?
What if minutes were
non existent all along?

we've trapped ourselves
a convict of our convictions
there's only one way out
believe in the fiction

free your mind
from the basis of "you and I"
no boundaries
of space and time

no consequential counting
no winners of your race

once you remember how to think
you'll already be last place.

I thought about you today,
fifteen,
sitting on my couch,
my parent's couch,
when they were not home,
when we were alone.

I thought about the little details,
the ones you remembered from that day,
the picture on the wall,
the color of my sister's jacket,
the name of my dog,
how you wanted to hold my hand.

It's been almost ten years
and all I remember is regret,
regret for not kissing you on the boat,
regret for never telling you how I felt,
regret for letting her be your first kiss,
regret for my naivety at fifteen.

I think of you so often
But I could never tell
Because I know of course you don’t
Think of me as well.
I think of you so fondly
Such a perfect memory
I think of you just wishing
That you would think of me.
But I know it’s useless
I’ve never crossed your mind
Because while I’m thinking about you
You’re just leaving me behind.