Please don’t point that gun at me.
I can crystal-gaze looking into the barrel and see my future
unfolding .I see blue skies and moonlight mountains and meadows. I feel warm hugs and kisses from the loved ones who I dearly miss.
I am rudely interrupted by the artic water that drip on me from the ceiling. I try to move from side to side attempting to avoid it touching me but after a while I just let the water cascade down my body like a waterfall.
I call out to see if anyone else is there, but there was no response. I knew I was alone. I heard the enchanting sound of my baby sons voice saying dada, dada, it relayed in my head like a record on loop.
But it’s all interrupted by the barrel, that I can sense squaring me up in the face!
Please don’t point that gun at me!
This time I can see the milk and cookies by my bedside, Nan always made them the best. I could even taste the sweetness of those rich tea cookies bursting into my mouth with immense flavour, it was like tasting flavours that will never be . I know it sounds exaggerated but that’s all I could think of after going 10 days successively without eating. But it’s like all my suffering, is the greatest product of my thought!
You see, that barrel is a time machine of great memories, reaching as far back as I know, but once it’s moved all the memories all the happiness is gone a bit like the way my freedom was taken from me, gone in an instant.
Please don’t point that gun at me!
I say as a dark figure looms
He pulls back the trigger ………………….. Bang!
For my loved ones I will see you soon!