Puppet Boy (Poems Inspired By)

Its a 3am sort of thing.

3am.

There she lies, all full of cries,

I can feel the numb-faced dread,

Paint splashed on her face,

She knows this ain't the place,

If all she wants is to survive.

But Puppet master, I beg of you,

Why won't you let us go?

We pretend who we're not

But we still get one-shot

With nothing but insults and blows.

You're just another bloodstain

Splashing on these walls,

Staining like his pitiful tears,

A desperate sounding call.

They echo like a wistful scream,

Creepier than his laugh.

There's nowhere to run,

Oh this'll be fun,

But the real horror hasn't quite yet begun.

Now terror and fear

pierce thy skin,

Like a needle of greed

Burning hot with sin,

A masked puppet master,

And I know he'll never see

That he will go no where

Because of jealousy.

Puppet master,

Where have you been ?

All we've seen is nothing

But your sick, twisted grins,

Skin thin like paper,

A weak beating heart,

I almost can't wait

For my deathday to start.

So it's been like, more than half a year.

Um, yikes.

Sorry guys, I can't believe I neglected to thank you. Puppet Boy has changed my life and it's one of the reasons that I still write today.

High school is very busy, but I promise to write more when I have the time.

Love you all.

~Ky