Puppeteer

By Abagail   

You're a puppeteer
With my strings in your hand.
You give them a tug
You force me to stand.

Now I feel nothing
Except a numb haze.
In my pale lifeless body
Attached to the strings that you raise.

Oh what I would do
To get my hands on those strings
And make you my puppet,
Make you one of those things.

But that’s not how it is;
The roles are reversed.
You choose to play with my feelings.
Your play is rehearsed.

About a girl so in love;
About a feeling so strong,
A puppeteer and his puppet
Being strung right along.

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