Poetry was her escape. br Her refuge from a world of stress and bustle, br Expressing thoughts and ideas took her to the land of dreams. br br Real, fantasy, truth, lies, br All thoughts are valid to the poet. br The shape of the words, the strength of the idea br Mean more than the content. br br Write about herself? Write about her friends? br Write about people who only exist in her imagination? br br Until someone read her work. br And got it wrong. br br Word on the page are not facts in life. br Life is her art, br But isn't her life. br br The effect this had killed the art. br Drove those sensitive feelings back under the surface. br br And the world is worse off for it.