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Puppeteer
November 14, 2013
as they rip me up from the roots
my skeleton becomes bare-
exposing the remains of a kindred soul
that has unwillingly fallen to its’ knees
pull my strings
my solemn puppeteer
make me dance for you
until the threads become frayed
but what happens then
do you loosen this knot
or simply place me on an alter
hoping those ropes will have me choke
call my name gently
and you will hear a forlorn moan
with the faint sound of trumpets playing
in a world that is no longer pure
© Bonnie S., Fremont, CA
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