Meet my words,
all alone, all for their own,
twisting in them memories, hoping nobody knows ,
never knowing what is to be, and what not be.

They take on shapes, of their happiness and sorrows,
written into themselves, into the hearts they borrow;
from the only place they know, blank pages on a page,
worlds with no before, worlds that change when the sheets turn over.
Feeling love, mocking hate, all the delusions ink can make,
meet the words, never truly born,
meet the worlds, caught in the lines of a page,
meet the worlds, living through lives they borrow.