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ManxPoetryGuy Jan 21
Living life on a string,
I sat on the shelf above the wood carvers bench.
I stare out the window as a shooting star fades into the night sky,
It flies away, it has no strings, unlike me.

I was a popular toy,
The woodcarvers favourite in fact,
he would always show me off to the boys and girls,
a tap of the foot, a tip of the hat, the usual evening act.

He doesn’t play with me anymore,
He hasn’t for a very long time.
He’s been under the covers of his bed,
I’m afraid he’ll never wake up.

The room is often dark, damp and very cold,
The wood of my body is starting to splinter and mould.

A rotten stench fills the room and floods my nose,
A vase is filled with rancid water and a single, wilted rose.

I try to move but my body is as stiff as a board.
I try to call for help but my mouth does not open.
The paint that was once my eyes has faded away,
Blinding me in one eye, but I can still almost see the sky.
The speckles in the dark,
The stars in the great abyss,
What secrets do they hold,
Are they like me, do they got old, do they have strings like me?
The question bounces around my empty shell.

Another blink, a flash of light,
Pierces the sky with its mighty flight.
Followed by another, and another, and another
And another…

The sky filled with beams of light,
Stars travelling freely through the night,
No strings to hold them back.

A creak, a crack, and a fall.
The shelf had finally succumbed to the rot,
And with its contents, I begin my descent,
The cold dark floor below me making its approach.

Fear should have gripped me,
But instead, a warmth filled its place.
Is this how the stars feel when they fall from the sky?
It feels almost… peaceful.

I feel for the first time in a long time,
Like I can smile.
Falling with the stars,
I can’t help but feel happy.

There are no strings on me…
I am free…
Here I present a rather dark version of Pinocchio
ManxPoetryGuy Nov 2020
Life is a circus,
And the bigtop is nowhere
To be found.
Life’s kinda funny if you think about it
ManxPoetryGuy Aug 2020
Cars flying by like Airplane’s in the Night

Create a stream of colour, like an ocean of Light.

Firefly backlights swim on a toxic cloud of Blight

Leading me down their path of Flight.

I- Oh, the path is closed.

End of the Road.
I’ve been gone for a while, hope to get back to writing now I’ve got my creative juices flowing.
ManxPoetryGuy Dec 2019
It's ringing,
Ringing in my ear.
It doesn't stop,
It just keeps ringing.
Ringing, ringing ringing.
I can't,
It's doing the,
And it won't stop.
  Dec 2019 ManxPoetryGuy
Stumbling thumbs I'm numb
Eat out the hearts that don't know me
Its a sick run to the heart
So be easy in your judgement
Sick from sin craving love
You can't blame a dark lost soul
  Dec 2019 ManxPoetryGuy
Ashlyn Rimsky
Sleepy Stupor,
Please stay a while
If you're the only one.
I lay here, still, and smile
At dreams of someone

Sleepy Stupor,
Please stay a while
Please don't let me come to
But folded sheets talk so loud
And him to I so few
  Dec 2019 ManxPoetryGuy
Bogdan Dragos
but that handle was made for his hand
hand - handle
handle - hand

the fingers would close
around it to never let go
It had to have flesh around it
at all times
But the blade...
the blade was still naked. He couldn't let
the blade naked
It wasn't fair

"So that's why you stabbed your
mommy then?" the psychiatrist asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"The knife is more important
to you than mommy?"

"The knife listens. Mommy doesn't."
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