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Books MAG
December 24, 2012
I flee from reality,
To a land,
Where although not everyone is happy,
I am.
I steal from the pages,
Bound in a leather cage,
Happiness,
In a selfish,
Unforgivable way.
© Monica L., St. George, UT
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JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 16 comments.
lordfarquad BRONZE said...
on Feb. 17 2014 at 9:19 pm
LEL HA GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
Lonely_Despair said...
on Mar. 15 2013 at 8:04 pm
Another well written poem! i really enjoyed this one as well. Great job
Lady_Teribithea GOLD said...
on Jan. 29 2013 at 7:54 pm
This is great! I love your description!
prolifepacifist said...
on Jan. 23 2013 at 5:03 pm
LoudDreamer, I agree.
MattMattHatter PLATINUM said...
on Jan. 1 2013 at 6:52 pm
Aww, thank you.
EPluribusUnum DIAMOND said...
on Jan. 1 2013 at 6:10 pm
Wow this is... this is beautiful. You expressed this perfectly, and I really do understand what you mean. I really enjoy this poem. I think it might be one of my favorites on TI.
MattMattHatter PLATINUM said...
on Jan. 1 2013 at 5:41 pm
Thank you. I read other peoples poetry and I think, I feel exactly like that, but I never would have been able to write that! It is just a weirdo thing that makes sharing poems so much more fantstic!
MattMattHatter PLATINUM said...
on Dec. 31 2012 at 9:12 pm
thank you so much!
Angelic_Kitten_Gwenyth BRONZE said...
on Dec. 30 2012 at 11:58 pm
It's funny. I see what you mean and I nevery thought of it that way. I like it. Creative:)
MattMattHatter PLATINUM said...
on Dec. 30 2012 at 5:40 pm
Write that into a poem, and you will get Editor's Choice for sure!
Helena_Noel BRONZE said...
on Dec. 30 2012 at 4:01 pm
Ah! I read this comment last night and was crazy to reply, but I was on my nook. How do I explain this? Perhaps you arent religious, but I believe humans were created and made in the image of their creator. Because of this, we long to make and make things like ourselves. We make things with struggles, because we struggle. It isn't sadistic when we appreciate it, it is appreciating the universalness of suffering, of loving to see them in the happiness we dont have, and feeling the compainionship in the trials we share. Think of it this way: if you close the book, and don't open it again, they are trapped in time: frozen and deprived of the only life they could possibly have, the life your imagination as you read gives them.
MattMattHatter PLATINUM said...
on Dec. 29 2012 at 7:51 pm
Hey, I apprecieat your comments. They make me feel good about my poetry. I feel guilty when I read a book, because I am leaving the problems with my life so I can revel in something that isn't real...
Helena_Noel BRONZE said...
on Dec. 29 2012 at 7:46 pm
Lol! I don't think of it that way. There is something delightful in suspense. The troubles of characters put us on the egde of our seats with a pretend worry, but we enjoy it, because its pretend. I don't feel guilty when I enjoy a good book, but I can see how someone might. I love this poem anyway, because its delightfully simple, smooth, and about my favorite subject, escaping into a literary world! The slanted rhymes are good, and unlike some of the other poems ive read lately, it makes sense. this put a smile on my face!