I am a puppet
In the hands of a puppetmaster
For a puppet without a master
Would sure end in disaster;
Held together
By colourful thread,
Stuffed to the brim
By the lies we are fed;
Clothed in the sheets
Of your deceit,
And left
to bleach in the sun;
Fed by secrets
killed by the truth,
And when in my death bed lay
A bitter-sweet rose bouquette
A last simple memory
Of my life
Before my strings are cut
A last peaceful reminder
Before my eyes forever shut
M.I.A
YOU ARE READING
Ghost Thoughts
PoetrySelf written poems by yours truly, MIAthePHOENIX!!! In a summary: Really silly at time, Really stupid as well, Moody and depressing And not everyone will like it, Hell, even I don't like all of them. But these are my thoughts, my children I have nur...
