So this narrative poem is based on a certain famous person. Upon reading it, I’m hoping you’ll have a fair idea of who it is. In the meantime, though, enjoy! The second part will come tomorrow…

It’s well past 10 pm, and I’m taking a walk through the city,
Tossing the golf ball keyholder in my hand up and down as I enjoy the night breeze,
Atmosphere quite hushed as is expected at this time of the night.
Few cars on the highways, few souls on the sidewalk,
A lil bit of activity here and there.
Particularly at the hotel up ahead.
A taxi stops at the entrance, and out of open doors emerge a man and a woman.
Familiar faces.
The guy’s a world renowned musician and that’s his wife.
Well loved and respected by many.
Must have gone out for dinner or something.
Getting closer to the place, I watch as they make their way to the front door,
Eyes fixated on their every step.
It’s not everyday you see superstars in person.
Passing through the archway…
I see someone lurking in the shadows.
Warning signs go off in my brain,
I have a feeling there’s some mischief about to be unwrapped,
The couple pass by the guy, brief notice, then move on,
This sudden tension builds up as I keep my eyes on him,
Praying it’s just a quick case of paranoia on my part.
Oblivious to the fact that his movement is in the full glare of this young man,
He reaches into his jacket pocket.
Every micro second feels like a minute as his arm moves in, then out.
Upon sight of familiar black deadly steel, it’s panic mode.
He’s gonna kill somebody!
Mind on adrenaline-driven overtime,
I have to stop him!
Do I race towards him? Do I scream out?
As the heart pumps furiously, I suddenly look at the ball in my hand.
Small, hard piece of titanium.
Do I throw it at him? Isn’t that too risky and ridiculous?
Doesn’t seem like the wisest option,
But seeing him crouch to take aim leaves little time for further debates,
I’ma just do it!
Nerves all focused on a good aim, I draw back,
It’s 5 seconds between life and death.
Then suddenly, time stops.
Everyone around is stuck in the mannequin challenge.
But me.
Then some guy from behind steps in front of me.
Shaking his head as I stare at him in astonishment.
“Guy, what’s wrong with you?
You wanna save this guy from a bullet?
Does your memory have diarrhoea or something?
After bashing your faith on numerous occasions?
After that time he said Christianity is just a phase?
After all those songs he’s made where he blasphemed and shoved dirt on the Lord’s name?
Guy, put that ball down.
He needs a lesson on respect, and this is it.
Don’t interfere with God’s plan.
Put the ball down.
Ma guy, put the ball down.
I said, put it down!