they all pull her strings left and right
making her dance in a graceful manner
to the observer, a beautiful performance
but to the performer, a nightmareshe's exhausted as she is thrown around
doing what's expected of her
and frankly she doesn't know how to do
anything elseshe's forgotten how to make her own decisions
how to smile because she wants to
how to live her own lifethe tears fall and she can't brush them away
or she'd be out of routine
she's alive to make them happy
when she is broken insidea porcelain ballerina isn't meant to be
dragged around for the cracks get larger
threatening to let the emotion enclosed inside
pour out to be exposedbut still they keep making her dance
and twirl and leap
her legs are weak but she fears for what
might happen if she stopsdance dance dance, she thinks
obey the cursed strings.
...
this how I constantly feel
like I'm a part of performance
whose purpose is to amuse the world
YOU ARE READING
Unsaid
Poetrythese are the things i wish i was able to say out loud. but because i can't here are the words that pass through my mind the words no one listens to because they'll never get the chance. . {highest ranking #98 in poetry}