The Value of a Ventriloquist

How valued a ventriloquist would be to hide behind and say my inner thoughts. I’d smile and play the stupid wood dummy and say all kinds of truth and not get caught. I’d let him speak for me and freely tell as people laughed at jokes and funny times. Yet truly I was shouting “Go to Hell,” and using this man’s voice to say my mind. Alive am I inside this hunk of wood. This face that never changes its wide smile aches from manipulation of its good and longs for human likeness for a while. How valued a ventriloquist would be to let me tell the truth up in this place. Instead of just a boxed away dummy, he'd be the smile that was upon my face. 6/21/18 2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 11 Sponsored by: Mark Toney |