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The Puppet MAG
A puppet suspended from strings
hanging from a noose as i swing
whittled down to my last breath
empty old dummy with a hollow chest
I choke till my pain is laid to rest
this is my final play
i'm an emotionless mess
A wooden toy left to decay, i severed my strings
in hopes of being a real boy one day
thy creator please hear my plead
as i fall from my shelf to your knees
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