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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=358263" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Helicopter From Hell</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=358263" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I am riding on a helicopter<br>From hell<br>That is supposed to take me<br>To some place<br>Where I can in vain find some<br>Solace and peace<br>For just one moment, I pray to some God that not likely exists-<br>They say it is supposed to storm today<br>But the skies are lying<br>Just as the whole world<br>Tells me its daily untruths-<br>Hell is where I am now living and<br>Hell is where I shall find myself<br>After death-<br> <br>Hell is my past and<br>Here in the present<br>I am damned and<br>Feel as if I have been betrayed-<br>An elderly woman, <br>Dressed in a chartreuse and brown-colored plaid frock<br>Torn at the hem and she is<br>Wearing worn oxfords, made of<br>Yellowed leather, <br>One untied-<br>Eyes in the back of her head spinning and<br>Glaring at me as she<br>Chatters, laughs at and prattles about me through the static on her<br>Wretched cell phone-<br>On this bus<br>Everyone is laughing at me disdainfully, <br>Ogling me through their glassy eyes-<br>The driver slows down every time<br>We come close to a green light turning yellow, then red-<br>Wanting to make me late<br>To that place<br>That place where I hopelessly seek solace and some<br>Peace of mind-<br>I would shoot him with a pistol<br>Or stab him with a knife-<br>If I owned either, which in sad reality I do not<br>If this bus were in truth a helicopter <br>It would fly high up in the sky but never would reach heaven-<br>Strangers with their beady eyes<br>In back of their heads-<br>Intently gazing into mine stealing my thoughts away-<br>They are nothing but ants to me whom I would stamp on<br>If I only could I would with joy and utmost glee.<br>My hands are shaking and my eyes are<br>Darting madly about-<br>“Everyone knows<br>That <br>Woman<br>Is<br>Psychotic –“<br>I hear them all say-<br>About me? <br>And<br>I don’t even care, because<br>I hate people and I have just fallen in love with myself and<br>That can only mean that<br>I must be from some other planet and<br>On this planet where I was conceived-<br>No heaven or hell exists, so<br>I ride this helicopter<br>Back to my home beyond the sky-<br>Beyond peace of mind, <br>Heaven, hell, or this planet earth, and where<br> The skies never lie and<br>I am lost in my own storm and I only wish that<br> That old crone would tie her shoe<br>And turn off her cell phone<br>So I can hear the voices<br>Always talking to me inside my mind-<br>As my eyes dart about and my hands shake-<br>As this world spins out of control and thunder claps<br> My phantom cell phone rings, <br>To tell me that<br>The sky has lied…one more time…<br>I am a lost soul, <br>Stranded and<br>Miles from home…<br>Destitute, impoverished, and<br>So in love<br>With <br>Myself…</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Claudia+Krizay">Claudia Krizay</a></strong></div>