He

He sits there, on a red bench while staring up the sky.

He then turns his head, looks at me, and then smiles.

Oh, look how handsome he is!

With wrinkles on the forehead, he doesn't look old,

Still strong, or maybe stronger than the last time we met each other.

He then calls me, allows me to sit by his side.

He tells me some stories about world, about what’s going on.

Then suddenly his face looks so serious.

He asks me to leave my dreams,

My meaningless dreams, he said.

I would be nothing if I’m still living in my dreams.

He then shouts at me that I must pursue another dream,

Another dream that others will be happy,

Not even once thinking I’ll be happy to do that.

He then arises, once again staring up the sky.

Later he holds out his right hand to me.

“You must come with me,” he says.

And then silence is my perfect world since that time.