Puppets

The Past
Stains our minds of wanted and unwanted memories

The Present
Gives way for those sorrowful and memorable thoughts to pass through our gates of trust

The Future
Gives us false hope

We deny our feelings, We deny the fact that we are not in fact "Okay"
I am not Okay, the days are growing darker and my heart is getting colder
My emotions want to run and play but they're blocked by this massive boulder
As I grow older I tire of these games
Of heartbreak and sorrow
Most of the time I don't want to think about tomorrow
Tomorrow and Today aren't far from the same
They both intertwine and help with this sick sadistic game

We are puppets for somebody to poke and pick at
Musketeers with no weapons or armor sent on a mission to find who we are
So we'll continue to dig our own graves and write our wills
Create multiple personalities, distract ourselves with pills
Put on a fake smile for all to see
Pretend to be something we're not and hide from what we actually want to be.

So let's keep on doing it shall we?
Playing these games
Because in the end
Isn't it all the same...