The Toymaker
The Toymakers Toy
I thought once Pinocchios strings had been cut,
his wooden body turned to flesh
and he became ‘real’
Yet, I have been cut loose from my strings,
only to be left feeling numb,
and raw?
I feel as though I have landed,
like a twig that’s been thrown by a child.
And am now, Just Waiting
Waiting, to be trodden on.
I was gifted a voice,
by the fairy godmother herself.
But given no volume
Or words to speak.
My ears however, have to listen.
my eyes unable to close,
my control centre never sleeps,
My tastebuds completely frozen.
My vunerable heart,
placed outside of my chest.
With no love or protection,
Just the echo of my masters voice.
The clinking of chains
Secured to my wrists,
clogging My arteries,
And, Starving my veins.
each breath is harder,
like grissle that's been gnawed,
straight off a bone,
By a ferocious beast.
A broken toy,
with a soul.
that is wanting to be real.
To find Giuseppe
and be loved,
not wooden with strings.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
