Crystal Heart

I feel just like Tiaan after a bad cricket game
every day his lips in a tight, embittered line,
a sad teenager is just like living with death
itself, when he gets into the car the tem-
perature drops, I act stupid just to make
him laugh in spite of himself

Here I am at work embittered, suffering because
I lost my self-esteem also, I dreamt of giving a
better performance, then discovered my work
has no value at all, this painful realisation des-
troys my concentration, my heart is broken as
Mr Mohapi remarked on beholding

The scratched crystal heart in the little blue bag
you gave me as a token of appreciation, I am
consumed by a guilty conscience – I failed in
combating my inability to do routine jobs and
have not lived up to your expectations, I feel
much worse than Tiaan ever could

But no time for sackcloth and ashes, we must help
him to regain his self-confidence – I hide my
own fears, withdrawing from life…

[I thought I could make up for my shortcomings
by trying my best in whatever tasks I could master,
but it is not working, knowing that I am actually
hindering my colleagues instead of helping means
my life is meaningless and I must try harder to
overcome my love for the rhythm of lines which
determines the beat which dictates the choice of
sound which requires the right number of syllables
in all the terms to keep the time sequence right
which means my work is all wrong… we have
to relay meaning, not create a melody…]