An Escape

Life is busy,
Buzzing like a bee.
You may get dizzy,
To the point you can’t see.

Time to unwind,
Is rare indeed.
But put your troubles behind,
And you may succeed.

Poetry is a place
For one to go
Without a race
For true colors to show.

It is from the heart,
Completely free.
It can be an art,
That no one can see.

It is beautiful and kind,
But what matters most
Is it is from your mind,
Not some other host.

So when sitting to write,
Aside from worldly pleasure,
In the middle of the night,
One finds a true treasure.