Trapped in a Painting

Is that a dog?
It cannot be, for it does not move.

Is that a man?
It cannot be, for he does not talk.

Is that a ball?
How can it be, for it sits in the air?

Oh where in the heavens have I gone to?

Oh where in the heavens is this strange place?

Why is it the clouds do not move, the trees do not sway, the people do not laugh and play?

Why is it the sun will not set, the river will not flow, and there is no place else to go?

Wait a moment... I do recall... This was a painting on my wall!

Why yes! Of course! I do remember, that my son drew in december.

Help me, boy! Do come with haste, for I feel I am stuck in place!

Please save me son, I know you're there! If you get me out, I'll pet your hair!

I'll raise your allowance! I'll get you a toy, so please come and help me, be a good little boy!

It appears that I cannot be found,
my foolish calls bring none around,
and I don't know how it is i came,
to be in this lowly place of shame.

Perhaps if I retrace my steps,
I'll understand what's happened. Except,
when I think to what last i remember,
I can't help but feel a glowing ember.

Perhaps I hit my head somewhere,
was it on my desk or on my chair?
I think I might have dropped my pen,
and bent to pick it up when,

a loud sound, yes, a sound it was,
came crashing through the door just as
I came to try and stand up tall,
my son had crashed into the wall.

Now I remember it clear as day,
perhaps I can get out this way...

The End

1 comment about this story Feed