The MarionetteA Poem by Katie RichardsA poem with religious grounds emphasizing the human struggle with imperfection.Dirty Defiled Internal corruption erodes my senses of morality Lust and filth and flames and dirt Latched in the grips of the one I despise Yet a complete conformist to his rebellion I remain the marionette in this debased scheme He pulls my strings until I pay my due He pulls my strings so clever for the perfect crime He pulls my strings, controls me, then throws me… Cracked and busted and useless and helpless amidst my grand stage of performances I lay there…strings entangling me Gashes and cracks in my wooden arms Evidence of my downfall Marks of my shame The audience, with faces something detestable, laughs at me They point and jest and bask in my humiliation… I tug harder and harder to free myself of the strings Yet more and more enwrapped I become Twisting and tripping on my own defeat… They leave me here and retreat from the arena with prideful smirks Tasting more and more glory and greed as they place more and more bets on my demise… They are gone…for now. I catch my bearings though slipping on my tears I gather up my strings and attempt to straighten them… Then I wash the blood off my hands Slaughtering any trace of evidence All conformation of my deadly deed drains into oblivion, gone and unknown But not forgotten. My conscience sucks me under... Around Around Around I go… the never-ending spiral sucks me under. © 2010 Katie RichardsReviews
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Added on March 3, 2010Last Updated on March 3, 2010 Author
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