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"marionettist" poems
The strings tightened their grip on her wrist. She couldn’t fight them. She needed help. The knives were so close, yet so far away. If only she could reach them. If she fought hard enough She could. It’s happened before They have escaped before. They fought, and they won. But there are those who didn’t win Those who fought and lost. They were replaced. They were ignored They were left behind. That’s why she didn’t fight. She was scared What if she couldn’t fight them? What if she lost? The strings moved her hands As the marionettist gently moved them. Her hand rose above her head The little girl below her covered her face No. NO! STOP! She had had enough The strings broke her skin as she resisted. The blood flowed down the strings As she fought. The marionettist was getting impatient. I helped you. Now you help me. That’s only fair, right? He said. For a second, she believed him. No. It’s not. She reached for the knives. She was winning. But they were still out of reach. Then the strings broke. She had won. She was free. And she was done with the strings.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
The Puppet
My vessel has been anchored, attacked, and conquered Leaving the pieces shattered and somber Stranded within a dynamic society My lifeless bones still dance with gaiety Misguided, unrequited, i have lost my light And here i lie undecided if sinking is a reward of being silent Lost in a sea composed of stringless, seamless puppets I'm reluctant, broken, cracked and sewed in Posed and told how to blend within The flawless flaws of retrospective laws Oppress what others call a “Suitable demographic” My vessel has been anchored, attacked, and conquered Leaving the pieces shattered and somber Stranded within a dynamic society My lifeless bones still dance with gaiety Attach the wires and deem yourself my master Superiority begets a systematic wrath of Powerless demons with a potent strategy Demand my steps to guide you into the perfect victory Media-- social media socializing the roles like ghouls of anesthesia Taking the control, then providing a hole of grief, anger, less goals and lost souls. My vessel has been anchored, attacked, and conquered Leaving the pieces shattered and somber Stranded within a dynamic society My lifeless bones still dance with gaiety
0
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 11:16 PM UTC
Marionettist