If you choose to read between the lines,
It is not my pen that judges, nor defines.
My strokes are pure. My intentions are clear,
In my means of meaning, no insinuations appear.
If guilt exists where there was no design,
It’s in your mind, not these words of mine.
My blameless verses unfold in innocence.
Untainted, I tell the untold. If by chance,
Your thoughts wander where they shouldn’t go,
It’s not my script that deals the blow.
If interpretations wander far and wide,
It’s your perception that takes the stride.
My words are but messengers, innocent, bare,
They carry no judgment, no bias nor care.
If your mind reads tales that lead you astray,
It’s not my ink that guides the way.
In the spaces between each line,
If meanings diverge or intertwine,
Know, my words hold no condemnations,
Just simple, pure, thoughtless intentions.
WoPoLi 
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