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A few decades ago, there existed Die Wunderbare Republik, Everyone lived peacefully and no problems came about, Everything was perfect, symmetrical, and organized.
Let's turn the page I have a story to tell About being on stage And how I fell I'm attached to strings Yet I want to be free Everyone else sings While I wish to be me
A curve of the lips, a crease in the eyes. A tug to the left, or the right.
“It’s okay.” I can still feel it. The way your lips touched mine. Without meaning. Without feelings. I missed them.
This is NOT me! This is NOT who I am! This is NOT who I want to be!
George W. Bush Served in the National Guard on his tush. Chosen Presidential puppet by Chaney Because he was not so brainy.
To worship you, God I live to worship you In spirit and in truth I live to lift you high In love and adoration I live to love you fully Convinced of your love for me Eternally encompassed
These times are clouded by impenetrable facades; Captivated by the immaculate charades. Foreseen by those that are watching in awe, As they stand only to be cursed and decay.
One of my old poems: Sometimes I feel like a puppet, Pulled along in another's hands Obeying the orders to do this or do that My every rebellion already orchestrated
I feel them The threads that bind me Like a marionette A fancy puppet Shiny hair Porcelain skin Glassy eyes Shakey limbs The strings They pull me
You hooked her heart up to strings Told her you'd give everything You'd cover her scars with a ring Your little puppet gave everything You pushed and pulled on the ropes She bent and bent 'til she broke
Screw you! Your superiority, Your self-righteousness, Your personality. Screw you! Your attitude, Your martyrism, Your hate. I'm done trying. To please, To serve,
Steel ropes attached to my limbs And twisted all ‘round me forced stagnant and Incommunicado by your hand
Howl His orders I cannot defy His existence I cannot not deny His presence alone I’m permitted to call home
What is this?Greedy beasts feeding on your suffering.Stuffing their faces with ... ah the money you gave them. The money which was supposed to help you. Instead it became a feast for the monsters.
Strings descend from open arms Encompassing my swelled wrists Love dwells like captivating charms But underneath, the string twists
Life is like one big TV series. Characters come and go. Some become stars. Some become the supporting cast. They say there are no small parts right? Someone else always writes the script
I walk down the sidewalk, the trailway, the road. My feet move beneath me with no thought of where they are going. Desperately wanting for guidance but hating the strings attached, I wander aimless, unmoving.
Do not promise what you will fail to deliver Beautiful Hopes are crystallized shards of glass Fragile But when they break, a maiden will cry a river Promise Each vow: special; varies in size and shape