The escape

Sometimes, I want to write poetry as an escape
Because I have one feeling in my mind
And it's STUCK in there

So, I grab my keyboard
(not as dramatic as a pen but it'll do)
I sigh loudly before I sit down

It doesn't work
It never works
Not at first

I sit with that one feeling
Occasionally, I don't escape
That one feeling becomes my poem

Other times though, it morphs
I find a different angle
Create a different take

I find freshness out of monotony
Things become less stale
Slowly. Almost accidentally.

The poet's escape is a difficult trick
Like many tricks, it is skill and determination
And there is magic in it