first we drove to a nearby café
where the sun smelt of autumn
and the rays of summer
and there we drank coffee and wondered
if this place was a good scene for the script
but the people
and all their beautiful faces
fascinated us
so we just watched them
as they rested their weary heads in coffees
and we forgot about the script.

then we made it to a friend’s house
whose empty beer bottles were still on his windowsill
and he was asleep, still dreaming his dreams
we wanted to see this palace where nomads lived
where scraps and refuse were collectables
and empty bottles were artworks
but he wasn’t home
and we never got to see the house
that will be torn down tomorrow.

but finally we made it over here
where we engaged thoughts in many cross roads
and dived into deep waters of reflection
and tried so hard
to think of something original
but that came hard –
much harder than we thought.