deepundergroundpoetry.com
Puppet strings
There's not alot of privacy.
In this box you put me in.
The box ive made my home.
Its made of glass, thick enough to see me clearly
But strong enough that i cant break it.
Im like an animal in a cage
Or really more like a puppet, your puppet.
I do whatever pleases you, for those
Pathetic scraps you throw me.
You pull the strings and i put on a show
But im thankful those horrid people
You call friends, cant touch me
With their grubby fingers, or smear their oily lips on mine.
You keep giving me orders
And i do them, all the same.
But all the while, im planning for the day
That i can pull the strings and you will
Topple over the edge and into my box.
So i can make the perfect puppet out if you.
In this box you put me in.
The box ive made my home.
Its made of glass, thick enough to see me clearly
But strong enough that i cant break it.
Im like an animal in a cage
Or really more like a puppet, your puppet.
I do whatever pleases you, for those
Pathetic scraps you throw me.
You pull the strings and i put on a show
But im thankful those horrid people
You call friends, cant touch me
With their grubby fingers, or smear their oily lips on mine.
You keep giving me orders
And i do them, all the same.
But all the while, im planning for the day
That i can pull the strings and you will
Topple over the edge and into my box.
So i can make the perfect puppet out if you.
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