I wrote this in the sleeve of a WH Auden for my favourite person in the world (my sister) who also writes. Check her out on our tumblr below if you like the poem as I won't post her stories here. She has saved my life numerous times. If you hate the poem feel free to say so. Some people want the sun to shine Others the grass to grow, But you just want to plant a line So it can slowly sew Meaning to this world of ours Where we toil day by day So we can sit and spend these hours Outside of the decay. In a world of written joy Created by your hand Spoken word becomes your toy It submits to your demand, They’re teased and moulded into theme They serve prosaic law, Sewn together they barely seem To have been apart before. Loose your words from the cage Allow them to spread and fly, So when they’re sank into the page The spoken word won’t die.