Lolita Poem by Michael Matsuda

A place, you see, where I can reach my goals
A place I have created that suits my morals
Though a paradox of exaggerated thought may seem pathetic
Deafening contacts with reality makes the horrible seem more aesthetic
With a dropp of paint begins a ripple and then the wave
Soaking and drowning the canvas, this world is now concave
With this new home I will live in this amorous reality
Until the end of the world, the frame of this tapestry
I look at reality with my literal artistic imagination
Which makes all of these atrocious acts justifiable; an infatuation
It's my mural; a realistic dream without sleeping
This tinted reality I prefer and is mine for the keeping
It's not logical to compare my painted masterpiece with yours
You interpretation on reality is something I have never seen before
All of you, as well as myself, are disintegrating what I painted
With my pallet stripped, the last dab of paint is now stinging red
It was but then my sedated universe from which I came
However, to the rest of your world, I am just declared insane