KUBE IS DONE!

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The room is silent for the first time in 85 minutes,
Chelsea down by a goal,
Van Gaal by the sidelines,
Falcao takes a step,
Not him, how are we going to win this?
I cross my fingers,
I start to hope.
I cross my heart,
I’m pure as robes of Pope.
If we are to lose, how will I cope,
Whistle is blown, keeper to the left,
ball to the right, in it goes.
I scream at the top of my lungs.
Manchester United fans searching for my heart,
a place to bury their fangs.
I calm myself down, it is just a draw.
Extra time begins, my heart racing
The finish line is no where close
Thoughts of Chelsea losing,
in my mind pacing.
Valencia hits the Chelsea woodwork,
with a left footed shot.
My face inches from being buried in my hands.
That almost made my blood clot.
It’s a united free kick, depay with the ball,
Fellaini comes close to him, he stands tall.
I close my eyes quickly,
before I could catch a full glimpse of darkness,
United scores,a Memphis Depay free kick.
Extra time is over, the game ends.
I feel so sad.
I leave the room for some air.
How could it have gone so bad?
“Kube! why are you in tears?”
Is it me or I just heard the voice of Eva Caneiro?
I raise my head and it’s my Irene.
God must have sent you.
The God who does not give blue tick.
The God that looks at my dp, good or bad.
The same God who makes my meat pie taste like shawarma.
“Kube, are you crying?
I quickly wipe my face.
“Me? Kube crying? Never! something fell on my pupil.”
I had to lie
“You still look sad
My face must be that bad.
Oh my kubeila, you understand me perfectly.
I was sad,
but on seeing you, I beam with smiles.
“Kube, I missed you.”
Yes you didn’t see me,
I was watching football
No, Kube I really missed you.
Is this an ‘average’ miss or you ‘mean’ it?
She looks away shyly,
Is this me? I guess this is the time.
My friends are watching me.
What if she refuses me?
I go on one knee, I look up at her.
Her colourful smile “hits” me,
but I “stick” with the opposite and like her.
Irene, I want you to me my kubeila.
She looks to the left, then to the right.
She looks back at me and nods.
Is it that your head is heavy or it is a yes?
Yes yes, yes I will
I hug her, She then whispers,
why did it take you so long?
My confidence was caught in traffic.
I lost a game, but I won a heart.
Thunder strikes, it starts to rain.
Irene’s hair starts to smell like my pillow
What! My ceiling is leaking
Oh no, I was dreaming.
That explains Falcao scoring,the Depay free kick, Valencia’s left footed shot.
It can’t be, Irene can’t be a dream too.
The knock on my door clears my mind.
The door opens, It’s Irene.
A second chance to make my dream come true
Her eyes, though I am a Chelsea fan, ‘sea’ blue.
It strikes me so hard, it beats my mind.
“Kube I…”
I know where this is going.
I go on one knee without hesitation.
I stretch my hand, I look up, she stares down at me.
Just like my dream.
Irene, I want …I want you…
Why am I struggling?
Kube be bold. I want you to…
Out of the blue, John appears.
He hugs her and gives a passionate kiss on the cheek.
I remain locked in my position.
“Kube, I wanted to know if I could get your calculator for john?”
How do I get up?
I have already started my proposal.
“Almost forgot, Kube you were saying you want me to?
I can not propose now.
What do I do?
First of all, she will bounce me.
Secondly, John will literally bounce me.
I think hard, I look up and I finally say,
Irene, I want you to help me stand up.
“Oh okay,
*She helps me up*
John attempts to help,
I look at his hands, trace them back to his shoulders,
then his face, with “eyes” colder than “ice”.
“Are you called Irene?”
I get her the calculator,
I close my door, not waiting to hear thank you.
I turn, my back towards the door.
Tear rolling from my left eye
So not right
I say to myself Kube is done!

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