Kastaiings in die vuur
Stille water, diepe grond,
onder dans my maatjies rond.
Maar die dagga voel vokkol
vir wat in my kop rondsmokkel.
Alles is in slo-mo,
ek sien vissies om my swem.
O hel, wat nou?
Ek hoor ’n harde stem.
Die tafels dryf,
die lig is skerp.
O heng, wat nou?
Ek moet my neerwerp.
Die polisie is oral om my,
ek voel so lekker dronk.
Ek moet gou wegkruip -
anders land ek in die tronk.
Te laat, ou maat!
Ek moet nou agter-in ry.
Die boeie sit so styf -
wat se bloed is aan my lyf?
Hier sit ek in my sel,
kon net een iemand bel.
Ek kon niks onthou...
Maar glo my, ek rou.
Die een vriend daar
was dood aangetref.
Ek glo hy’t geval, maar
verduidelik dit so aan almal?
Nou moet ek boet
en agter tralies sit -
en dit ná een keer
se soet daggapit.
Groepsdruk was die oorsaak
van al hierdie hel.
As ek nie sou betrokke raak,
sou niemand my kon skaak.
Ek moes maar geluister het
na my enkele vriend...
Die groep sê nou:
"Jy het dit verdiend."
Dit is nou te laat -
en ek kon dit keer.
Ek moes maar geluister het.
Ai! Al die selfverwyt.
Dit was my eerste keer,
maar glo my...
Nooit weer.
Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2002
Nota: Ek het die gedig geskryf na aanleiding van 'n storie wat ek gehoor het.
Playing with Fire
Still waters hide what's deep below,
my buddies laugh and spin around.
But weed can’t numb the thoughts I know,
that echo loud without a sound.
It all moves slow, like in a dream,
I see small fish go drifting by.
Oh hell, what now? A sudden scream -
a voice that cuts across the sky.
The tables float, the lights turn bright,
I stumble, dazed, I hit the floor.
Oh no - the flashing, blinding light -
I can’t pretend it’s safe no more.
The cops are here, they’re all around,
I’m dizzy, drunk, can barely think.
I try to hide without a sound -
too late, I'm cuffed in just a blink.
I'm in the back, the cuffs are tight,
what's this red stain upon my sleeve?
Whose blood is this? What happened last night?
Too much to take, too hard to believe.
Now in my cell I sit alone,
one phone call I could make.
But memory’s gone, the truth unknown -
regret now keeps me awake.
They found a friend who didn’t wake,
he lay there cold and still.
I swear it must have been mistake -
but who’ll believe me still?
Now I must pay for what went wrong,
behind these bars I cry.
All for one puff - it didn’t seem strong -
but now I know why.
Peer pressure lit this reckless flame,
and dragged me straight through hell.
If I had said no to the game,
I might have still been well.
I should’ve heard my one true friend,
his warning clear and kind.
The group now says this is the end -
no mercy left to find.
It’s far too late to turn it back,
this path I could have fled.
I should’ve stayed on a safer track -
now guilt won't leave my head.
It was my first time - that’s the truth,
but hear me when I say:
I’ll never ever touch that stuff again.
Chris M. v/d Westhuizen '2002 (Translated from Afrikaans)
Note: I wrote the poem based on a story I heard.