My Hiding Place
From the tumult and the trauma
The dysfunctionality
Of the daily psychodrama
In propinquity to me
On the other side of the wall
Round the corner down the hall
I escape into poetry
The only place where I can go
Where reason understands I know
How lonely it is to be me
To tame the chaos of the time
By counted syllable and rhyme
To seek a spark by which to see
And though it seems impossible I know
At least I have this one saving grace
As angry voices fall to rise again
Since all they have in common is their pain
Through chaos I see cosmos and I go
Through loneliness to weep away the stain
Into poetry: my hiding place
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMVII
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