My words peep through
The veil of literature,
Like a cautious creature
With wary eyes.

My words, they swim,
Through these oceans of thought,
Darting swiftly with fear
That they might be preyed upon.

My words often fly through the sky,
Where creative feelings linger high,
But they hide among the clouds
So that they will not be grounded.

My words, I try to use them masterfully
So that I will not be quieted but rather heard.
Still, I must make sure I contribute my message,
No matter how I deliver it.