19 Nov 97
My Escape

Sitting in bed, at night,
In the dark
Escaping to poetry.

Feeling of freedom
As each word flows
Onto the page
Linking with another
To hold a meaning.
If not for anyone else,
For me.

Arranging things into my perspective.
Holding onto the good,
Trying to escape from the bad,
In the only way I know how.

Some people scream and shout,
Some throw things,
To release anger and tension.
I write.....and write and write,
Until there are no words left
To describe my feelings.

Trying to make sense of
The things I don’t understand.
Trying to make others understand me.
I sit with paper and pen
And escape to poetry.