Keep pulling the strings,
Harder.
I've grown accustomed
To the painful yanking.
Take my shoulders
And tug them astern.
Back rigid as a board,
So as to never run blissfully.
Heave my head up.
Neck indefinitely stiff.
I'll never be able to gaze
Down at the flowers.
Wrench my lips further.
Cheeks excruciatingly tight.
So that I may amicably smile,
At people I'd rather frown.
Extract my laugh out from within.
Lungs enervated from
Emanating becoming laughs.
Which animate these artificial
Kings and Queens,
When I genuinely desire
To spill their crowns.
Force the tears back from my eyes.
As I stand reduced to a creature
In a frivolous sideshow.
Defeated.
Degraded.
Destroyed.
Master.
I do not despise you.
Neither pity myself.
You cannot dodge inheritance.
You cannot hide from the strings.
For we are born Puppets.
And become the Puppeteers.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 8:02 PM UTC
Keep pulling the strings,
Harder.
I've grown accustomed
To the painful yanking.
Take my shoulders
And tug them astern.
Back rigid as a board,
So as to never run blissfully.
Heave my head up.
Neck indefinitely stiff.
I'll never be able to gaze
Down at the flowers.
Wrench my lips further.
Cheeks excruciatingly tight.
So that I may amicably smile,
At people I'd rather frown.
Extract my laugh out from within.
Lungs enervated from
Emanating becoming laughs.
Which animate these artificial
Kings and Queens,
When I genuinely desire
To spill their crowns.
Force the tears back from my eyes.
As I stand reduced to a creature
In a frivolous sideshow.
Defeated.
Degraded.
Destroyed.
Master.
I do not despise you.
Neither pity myself.
You cannot dodge inheritance.
You cannot hide from the strings.
For we are born Puppets.
And become the Puppeteers.
