Jul 1, 2015

"The Hallucination." a poem.

Father,
she's on an airplane disappearing above the clouds of snow flakes.
I have a picture of her on my laptop.
I saved the picture so that I can remind myself an important facet of life;
I need a will for I may die.
I threw the photo to the ground,
but it was my laptop that suffered the most.
My vision of my eyes are lost in Father's image.
My laptop destroyed is stored among my artifacts of my past.
The hallucination is etched,
carved into my nerves,
into my DNA.
Father,
I imagined she flew on an airplane towards the sunset.
What I really didn't mention was that I had a hallucination.
I sat behind the bars of the police vehicle and then--a hallucination!
It hung on the back of the front seat right before my brown eyes.
I turned to the thick window,
and she still sat there in front of me right after a police officer asked me,
"Are you having a hallucination?"
To which I replied, "Yes, I am."
I know the hallucination was surreal
because the image of her was the one who cried for help from Police.
Interpersonal relationships,
unions come and go,
for Father doesn't know my life of unrequited love,
Good bye!