Those empty bottles don’t know the void they’re filling,

The gyrating lights can’t shine into you,

The booming bass hides your inner screams,

An empty seat amidst a packed scene



Is this the seat you chose to occupy?

Is this the drink you chose to sip on?

Is this the scene you chose to mingle in?

Empty laughter and polite gestures,

Hollow eyes peek from the pits of frustration,

Twisting strings to move puppets,

You thought you were in control,



But darling, look above,

Aren’t we all dancing with strings?



Strings we built with the threads of community,

Sinners and saints dancing in a grey landscape,

Putrid thoughts and noble gestures,

We are all walking with strings attached,

Some of us get tangled in further,

A forest of threads making your next decisions,

Puppet masters sitting on the thrones of tranquility,

Lifestyles you helped establish



Some of us, we snip those strings off,

We act out our own lines,

We dance to a discordant system,

Acting sane within the boundaries,

And writing down lines to break free,

On the long hard road to being yourself,



But how much of you is you?

Check your moves, look up above,

There might still be a string attached.