There is no inner meaning

This is all there is.

 Simple words.

Stories may play along,

 and so do the many interpretations.

Still,

 these are only words.

A necessary.

A distraction.

The words are a carnie's trick,

  shifting your gaze away,

    letting you see what you wish.

Sugar crystals wove in a web.

Shake my head.

Same old trap.

Our words may not always be read the way they were wrote,

 but a distant reader might find something.

I smile at a reply of hope.