I'm just me,
nothing more to say...

We came so close, face to face,
A tear within her eyes...

Wondering people,
Hearing voices of the past...

Cold rainy nights or
hot summer evenings...

Quack said the frog as he waddled on by,
Neigh went the duck as he trotted on past...

Most of them don't exist.
Only figments of imaginations...

I look out the window.
The rain pouring down...

A flutter of a butterfly's wing,
Is a simple maneuver...

Bright and loving,
Easy going and kind...

Ek sal klop aan die deur,
Ek wil sit by die vuur...

It felt so luxurious.
The spectrum before me...

I know me the most.
I'm not all that special though...