What does it mean to write?
Are there fences?
Are there rules?
Is the clear blue sky the limit?
Is it endless or finite?

Should we follow a path?
Is it left?
Or is it right?
Do written words have restrictions?
Like arithmetic and math?

Do you have to be good?
If you are bad,
Should you quit?
Is there even fine a boundary?
Do we really think there should?

Are words upon a page,
A form of life?
Our hallowed kin?
Are the words that live within us,
Our own breath-restricting cage?