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THE PUPPETEER

Body of plastic,

but porcelain heart-

You like your marionettes

to be kept in the dark.

Just make sure her strings are kept high above-

God forbid, if she ever looks up.


You love your poisonous flowers and transparent cages,

You’d keep a full audience

watching an empty stage

it’s like

Throwing rocks, at a porcelain heart-

and then howling with rage when the pieces are sharp.


God knows you can’t live your life like that,

She’ll tug on your grip and you’ll reel her back,

Just make sure the crossbar

remains far above:

My love, why’d you depend on the chance that she’d never look up?


But she looked up,

Soon enough-

At your crossbar above.

And with the shards of her heart and a new will of diamonds,

She surely cut every line you had

strung to her body,

Dear puppeteer, are you sincerely sorry?


But still, you threw rocks

at a porcelain heart.

And nothing you truly loved

Would be kept in the dark.


Soon blessed with their vision

and uncensored feeling,

All your marionettes will awake from their dreaming.

But now,

there’s just one who’ll never wonder again

What new pretty lie you’ll make her dance with

next.


© Copyright Dark Poets Club

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