True

You know what is true
There is a reason deep
Why I write my poetry
Why it resonates within

Why the surreal fantasy
It's all because of a page
Blank, white and so free
Where anything can be

This blank white page
Can take up any shape
It can spread its wings
And fly away in peace

But in real life it's not so
I'm trapped by mortality
My limitations set bounds
Yet mind craves to be free

So I seek my meagre refuge
Behind my words in poetry
Where there are no bounds
In a world I can truly be me