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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required What are dreams? Are they a figment of one’s imagination? are they a form of de'ja' vu created for my future’s fascination? I wish to wonder and skip to far lands rainbows of iridescence, but mirages built on moods could depress my inner essence. Real or not real, they become a part of my consciousness, illusions of past mistakes as I drowned in obnoxiousness. I sat by our ol’ white oak tree down by grandma’s creek, our log cabin was full of generations, but I couldn’t speak. I had no words to say, only eyes to see my family, except I was all alone for no one could even see me. Invisible to the world while lost in hallucinations, I held phantasm inside my desire to carry a conversation. Touch…I could not touch…only lost in crowded room, outside by the oak tree I knew I’d find my gloom. Deep inside me I wanted to shout out to the world, and there she came outside, that beautiful little girl. She was in the corner scrunched down facing the wall, it was my sister Karen, and I slowly watched her fall. I tried to run fast to see if she needed help getting up, but I couldn’t move a muscle and was scarily stuck. I thought, “how can this happen, she needs my help!” For I was not around last time she unexpectedly fell. She wasn’t yet a woman but just a sweet young lady, too young to see the truth but too old to be shaky. Immobile and perplexed I tried with all my might, finally I was released and could help her with her fright. I held her head in my lap as she cried for over an hour, I brought her in the house and gave her a warm shower. I was so relieved and comforted that my voice returned, oh, what a miracle I saved her with a deep lesson learned. I woke up in tears, looked up at the ceiling while staring, for she was truly gone, I couldn’t save my sister Karen. Sometimes my dreams can bring me pleasant geniality, other times I wish my dreams would become my reality. Written By: Laura Loo Date Written: April 12, 2016
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