The PuppeteerA Poem by EmilyA poem about life and death.
Strolling through the vector of time
We often take life for granted Something higher mocks us Pulling our strings We are puppets of reality Suspects of wish Time is of the essence they say How right they are The puppeteer A mysterious being Or is it? Puppets are all we are © 2011 Emily |
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Added on April 1, 2011 Last Updated on April 1, 2011 AuthorEmilyCAAboutHey, I'm Emily. I go to Los Angeles Valley College, and I write poetry and some short stories. In my free time, I draw, play video games, and play with my dogs Zeke and Roscoe. Zeke is a Great Dane/Bo.. more..Writing
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