Pulled By Strings

all i see is a light

no thoughts of my own

have no clear image of what i should do

i am mindless to him

a struggle to recover

a war to control

this is my blood

you have your blood

your are not the author of my life,

I'm the protagonist of  my fate,

this is an autobiography,

leave the pen and paper,

your not my puppet master.

i am my own survivor to life

you are looking for someone to hold on to

your voice clings like a memory

a memory that is control

my mind is my place

a place which your mind cannot stay

a beast that shall be slain

your mind is a stain
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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May 26, 2016 at 7:22 PM
Jonathan, Enjoyed reading your thoughts and words today. *SKAT*
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