We hid our secrets in between words
We say what we mean and yet
We do not mean the things we say
As we trot about language like s passing fancy

We use anagrams to encode our mysteries
And the only clue we provide blends
In plain sight as we search for the details
And we lose the big picture

And that being said, we cloak ourselves
In the name of anonymity we disguise ourselves
Behind pen names and question marks,
"Who are they? What are their secrets?"

Often mistaking privacy and misdirection
As a magic and an illusion
When it is plain to see that we prefer not to be
As they have deemed

In the name of anonymity
We hide our faces behind reflective illustrations
Behind cleverly placed nouns, verbs and fanciful phrases
As our words are shared and our names are spared