POEM | SELF | HEARTBREAK | POETRY
Spectacle Of Strings
Your hand commands, Tugs my strings.
Only show them, My pretty things.
Wave my arm, Make me dance.
This will be, My only chance.
A frenzied mind, A melancholy soul.
My life’s purpose, Is to console.
I give smiles, Yet absorb frowns.
Use me up, I, your playground.
Spin me around, Like a top.
Please don’t ever, Let me stop.
I can’t blink, Or even see.
Trapped in boxes, Hear my plea.
Inside my chest, Festers rotted wood.
No one sees, As none should.
Forced to parade, About the stage.
Dress me neat, Disguise my rage.
I look up, The hand mine.
I lower myself, Into putrid brine.
Do not let, My strings slack.
Everyone will see, All I lack.
Entertain the crowd, Move every part.
I must cloak, My broken heart.
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