The hierarchy puppets me.
Pulls my lifeless strings to where the act requires me to be.
The numb life around me, an abattoir
In this chaos, I am no exception,
I wave, I paw at the screen,
Why won't anybody notice me?
The plead in the quiver of my lip,
should scream through the silence,
Like a screech in the stairs in the dead of night.
Perhaps they are cowards.
This puppetry can't control me, I won't let it.
I frown upon their disregard ,
But I myself, am no bigger.
I cower at the thick-eyed monsters,
Helpless without their pull.
They are the voice behind my haunting shadows.
I could snip my string when their eyes are turned,
Wouldn't I be a wonder?
I could fly like pages in a story,
But my angst controls me
My pages stand still.
I am a coward.