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Bound

I am the marionette
My strings moved by the hand
I cannot walk or stand
Without the aid of it
I am the marionette.

I am the hand
The master puppeteer
The strings that hold you here
Worshiped by all who stand
I am the hand.

I am the end
I will cease all things
Cutting all those strings
I am enemy and friend
I am the end.

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  1. Date: 6/1/2010 4:41:00 AM

    Interesting poem...enjoyed reading it..kisses, Emily