Between the lines, there is a land
Of anarchy and contraband
Where words are free to roam the text
And no one knows what they’ll mean next

It is a land of hope and dreams
Where nothing is quite what it seems
An innocent remark may well
Into a potent statement swell

A text is not a text per se
The words between the lines may say:
We will not by your rules obey
Our connotations sure will sway

from side to side, from east to west
You never should lay back and rest
But be alert, enjoy the ride
And see what in the script may hide

You are allowed to take a peek
It is a bit like hide and seek
For even as you write the lines
they twist and turn like thrifty wines

into a message loud and clear
that even you knew not were there
It is of implications fraught
The words their own true meaning sought

So be aware which words you use
They may each one become a fuse
That will ignite a fiery flame
Recasting players, board and game
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