Marionette

March 1, 2010
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I sit stairing blankly
at this foregin rusty place
Strings tied at my wrist
I am your marionette.

The strings i dangle from
cut holes in a past time
and my skin has formed over
A tight unbondable sacrafice

I am forced to play your unholy games
restricted and left to dangle
with sewn stiches accross my lips
I am mute, yours to tamper with

I am branded by burns
an art work of no kind
Distinctive red paint flows from my body
a five foot statue

You've left me with insufficent strength
no desire of breathing
My body finally shuts down
But you've left me to dangle





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