2 May 1999
Like a prisoner is what I act
because my room is always lock.
I’m always frightened and so lonely,
but writing a poem will make me happy.
I can’t act like a happy clown
every time that I’m on the frown.
I can’t watch my favorite video;
even just listen to the radio.
I want that I’m always free,
that I can do what I can be,
that I can play with my friends
until this livable world will end.
How can I never be lonely
if my feelings are always unhappy?
I just think about the fantasy
and I want it to be reality.
I can’t go outside of our home,
that’s why I’m sad and alone.
Only the voices of the children
make me happy every time I listen.
I’m always out of my mind;
I can’t express my feelings inside.
I can’t play my favorite game
and basketball was its name.
I have to write a poem about something
so that even if I am no longer living,
people will forget me not,
today, the next day, and forever.
* original image appears in link
My Hallucinations 