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Not Your Puppet

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I feel my arms being lifted, then my legs.

One leg forward. Left, then right. Arms swinging without me wanting them too.

My puppet master pushes me forward, causing me to commit crime, create destruction, experience pain, inflict wounds.

I see the tears, flowing down their faces. Yet, I continue, not having the will to stop.

The whole world is at the reins, pushing me to do what everyone is doing, just because the community we live in is afraid of individuality.

Snip. Snip.

Cut the strings that bind me to this torture.

Snip. Snip.

Cut the bonds that hold me to this life.

Snip. Snip.

Cut myself away from the chaos.

I am not your puppet. It's time you've learned that.

And I realize, I'm not alone.

I stand with faceless people, nameless comrades.

Rebelling against the establishment.

We pump our fists in the air.

Screaming, "Hell no! We won't go!"

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