PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I came home from school today,
And escaped into my world,
my refuge.
My little world of paper and plastic,
the thousands of little universes,
where all my friends live,
all my pets adore me,
where all my family exist in harmony,
without the dreadful screaming, clashing, hurting that exists in their real world.

My world.
It's what I make of it.
I rule here.

I step inside my room, look around the walls,
and see the shelves and shelves of keys,
each opening to another little section of my world.

I can make the clouds turn purple,
And hang, suspended, from a moon beam.
I can make the world celebrate,
and put myself in the midst of it.
I can transport myself to places undiscovered,
or make myself all I've ever dreamed.

I try to forget that it's not real,
that what really exists is what I live,
that I can escape, for a while, but not forever,
and eventually I'll have to go back, stop,
come back to my life, and trudge through it all,
exist for the time when I can next escape.
All I can do is pray it comes soon,
and lasts forever.