In the young, I am found, A maker of games,
A leap, and a bound from reality's reins.
When no muse is to be found, Artists turn to me;
Marvel in my sights and sounds and copy what they see.
Inventors ride upon my back, Jump over truths that block the way;
In this way escape the track and drag back home their prey.
Have me, Use me, hold me dear but never fall in love with me.
From me you have nothing to fear, Unless of course you trust me.
A child's plaything, An artist's friend,
An investor's steed, And sanity end.
What am I?
