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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1741170
Ever felt helpless?
We are all puppets
with someone pulling the strings
strings we can see not, touch not
Just the tension we can feel

The string puller takes me left
when i want to go right
Cannot let go of the pull
Try as i might

The strings could save me
as i am about to fall
why oh why? they let go
and let me tumble and all

I need the strings then
to pick me from the ditch
So I can go back to same ole,
'My destiny what I sketch'

No sir, There are no strings
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