Fictional poem by myself

My Picture Wall

My picture wall, above my bed, where I can see all my friends. I can see my dog Cali, her tongue sticking out, it was a hot day, even if it was autumn. I can see myself standing under a tree, the same tree where Angel broke her arm, she tried to jump off her horse into the tree, but she fell down. I can see the woman who owned the hotel in St. Paul. The same hotel where I found a knife under the mattress.