Escape

“I am not addicted to drugs or alcohol- I am addicted to escaping reality.”

There are days I wish I could forget

The route home, wish I could upset

The predictable order of things at a whim

(Though the chances of this occurring are dim)

There are times when I let my fantasy take flight 

The little battles of everyday life I refuse to fight

 

And dream about driving away in my car

Way past home, to a destination far

Assume an identity completely new

Among new people who have not a clue

As to my real identity- is that too outlandish

To think it is possible? Or just plain selfish?

To run away from my family and obligations

Just like a gypsy- to an unknown destination?

Then find my soul;  free from the chains

Of daily living, return as a person sane..

**

The fantasy is alluring, I must say

Yet I am not an escapist, I know, any day

So while a physical journey is quite out of question

I need to take a mental break from the tensions

Of daily living- so I imagine myself in another place

Footloose, unencumbered, solitary in my space

Vivid images of a sanctuary I try to conjure

To which I can retreat, a place untarnished and pure-

Alas! A minute or two at most lasts my reverie

Broken cruelly, abruptly by insipid reality…

The escape that I dream of, I realize

Will in the near future not materialize..