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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #895104
It's weird
Sitting bewildered, wondering about your passing phase
A puppet prancing, with hidden strings.
Ear to ear, my grin burns my face.
Why do you keep me yearning?

Your questions bouncing off me, an alien tongue.
My answers; flipping the bird
Your tone burns my heart
My mind; flips the bird

I break your hold of memories suppressed
A flood that feed your questions
I didn’t mean to spark curiosity
Merely observing your assertions.

An anomaly you are to me.
Your memories begin to haunt
As a tourist I wandered through you mind
A land like my own.
Landmarks and museums
Shopping centers and cafes
Familiar in structure.
Eerie in resemblance.

Lies are paved roads
On the dirt track of life
To make the journey easier.
Sometimes complicated
With highways and bi-ways
Roundabouts and Signals
I have no desire to ride in comfort.
I have an S.U.V.

Your words brought me comfort
I didn’t cry last night
Sitting in a daze, wondering about my passing phase
A puppet struggling, on invisible strings.

© Copyright 2004 Chrystal (chrystal656 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/895104-Who-me