My world is not of the written word
It cannot be numbered
Held captive on a so called page
My world is liquid
As sea , rain , snow or ice
It can be hot , cold or entice
My world is cloudy
It thunders after it flashes light
My world is wrong , my world is right
There are no words that bind my life
I won\'t be delegated
To exist in the black on white
I will not be staved
By the limited sways
Of the written word upon the page