deepundergroundpoetry.com
Puppet Suicide
Dancing around in thin air,
this script I did not write...
A crowd of strangers stare me down,
this disaster is my life...
Strings could tie and form a knot,
and he locks me in the darkness...
Surrounded by my wooden friends,
held down by an iron harness...
Hand-made from a carving knife,
to make a child smile...
But this journey that I call my life,
I live it in denial...
All I have,
is my depression...
A lonely life,
of misconception...
If only I weren't a mere puppet...
If only I could walk my own path...
If only I could make my own choices...
And hear my own voice when I laugh...
This chosen future for me,
Is something I'll have to pass...
A puppet's death you will now see,
This performance I do now is my last...
this script I did not write...
A crowd of strangers stare me down,
this disaster is my life...
Strings could tie and form a knot,
and he locks me in the darkness...
Surrounded by my wooden friends,
held down by an iron harness...
Hand-made from a carving knife,
to make a child smile...
But this journey that I call my life,
I live it in denial...
All I have,
is my depression...
A lonely life,
of misconception...
If only I weren't a mere puppet...
If only I could walk my own path...
If only I could make my own choices...
And hear my own voice when I laugh...
This chosen future for me,
Is something I'll have to pass...
A puppet's death you will now see,
This performance I do now is my last...
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