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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.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 6/1/2010 4:41:00 AM
Interesting poem...enjoyed reading it..kisses, Emily
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Book: Shattered Sighs