I listen to the words you say,

As you read them from my page.

A mouthpiece for my lines to play,

You release me from this cage.

Because without a voice to talk,

I am merely pretty words.

I’ve got no legs to help me walk,

No wings to fly like birds.

All I have are syllables,

Which I put inside your head.

But silence always kills it all,

If you stop talking I am dead.