puppeteer

I rest on the cold wooden floor, awaiting

The day that you will come

The day you get me ajar

Ready to do the dance

I so many time have done

But right now my strings are twisted

And my body slumped

Lying feeling the abandonment

Waiting for you just to walk by and look down

And notice the loneliness painted on my face.

And in disgrace;

Hoping for you to put me in motion

But I still sit my body now a pile of rot

Still hoping and waiting for that day…