Hello, Mr. D.
Here I am wasting time wandering where is my friend. My friend could not escape Mr. D. December 9, 1983. He carried her to an unknown place which causes me to wonder, imagine and take a few guesses. Does one have to pay taxes, worry or hurt? Does one have to cry or can one laugh? Does one have feelings or any type of emotions in this unknown land? In time, will I go there too?
Wherever my friend may be, I hope my friend knows that I love her. A love that words fail to define. A love that is purer than gold and clearer than diamonds. Mr. D. even though she failed to escape you on December 9, 1983–you failed to destroy my never-dying, never-ending love. But please, where ever she may be–please take care of my Mommy, Mr. Dr.
Note: Mr. D. is Death. Hello, Mr. D. was written by me exactly one month after my mother’s death. That is when I fell to the bottomless pits of hell within my mind. I have so many patients grieving now. I hope this poem will help all of you grieving to know that you too can resurrect from the hell that may consume your minds. You must understand that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but you must go through the tunnel to see the light!