I feel the pain
of the man
who stole a plane.
Loading bags
and out in all-weather.
He must have assumed
it could never get better.
What was he thinking
when he took that flight?
Did he believe
he was flying towards a light?
For that hour
did he feel alive?
Knowing then
that he would never survive.
Leaving a wife
and family behind,
that’s a decision
hard to define.
No one will ever
know for sure,
why he felt this life
he could no longer endure.
I feel the pain
of the man
who stole a plane.
But it is something
impossible to explain.
I wonder if escapade is the best possible solution.
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This was a sad story wasn’t it? Lovely poem…
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Thank you, It was a story that made me stop and think.
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Me too! My husband and I were just talking about it last night. At first the story seemed amazing that it could happen, but to learn mental illness and depression played a part in it, made my heart go out to him and his family.
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The mind is a wonderful and at times an indescribable thing.
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