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