Strings Attached

Thoughts seclude my mind,
my focus is lost to me.
My head spins, I am in disarray.
Is this normal?

I find myself thinking all day,
thinking too much, letting go of the present.
The past hangs on my back,
a cape, always hung around me.

Does this make me crazy?
Am I close to being insane?
Perhaps, perhaps not.
I am only human.

Yes, that's what it is.
I'm questioning my humanity.
my very soul, my being.
I just see now a lifeless puppet.

Society and life, they are the puppeteers.
As long as they exist, we question ourselves;
constantly searching for an escape route.
Even living how we want, we are still controlled.

We cannot cut off the strings
our unknown fate, is bound to come.
We will have to live blindly, with of course..
Strings attached.

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This Poems Story

At times I realized and asked myself, "What are you doing? Why are you as you are now? When are you going to change?" As I grew up, I found it harder to let go of the past because I was afraid of change. I was afraid that if I did, if I opened to society and interact that I would become easier to control. Manipulated and molded to something I'm not, but life is not a variable that can be controlled. We have to live in it, with or without our consent.