My Escape

Poetry, the drug, my glorious escape from the world.

Poetry, the high, my method of free expression.

Poetry, the teacher, how I unearth the mysteries of my complex mind. 

Poetry, the friend, my confidant whom I record my feelings.

Poetry, sweet love, please always flow through my veins to my fingertips.

Awaken me daily and take me places the conventonal do not dare trek.

Escort my mind to the imaginative depths of my soul.

Saccharine poetry, forever a beloved companion of mine.



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Wow. What a great metaphorical comparison between poetry and the objects you choose. 

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