Freedom (Remove filter)
Cutting the Strings
What I am is wrong,
This is not me,
The entire sum of my life has led me to this fact,
I cannot be who I was, nor who I am,
Not even who I am trying to be,
The end is but a heartbeat away,
And there it will begin,
Life lived as a puppet,
Is life ruled by the puppeteer,
Cut the strings,
To fall to the ground by your own hand,
And then rise of your own accord,
Is what I long for,
Tuesday 1st September 2020 11:17 pm
Recent Comments
John Marks on The nutritional value of a bullet
2 hours ago
Tom Doolan on HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND
3 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND
3 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on The nutritional value of a bullet
7 hours ago
Pinnochio on Am I Enough?
9 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on The nutritional value of a bullet
14 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Social Media Man
15 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on upon a shot that lit the roof alight; June 29, 1613
22 hours ago
Robert Mann on November Heart (Updated)
1 day ago
Rolph David on Máxima's Royal Mock
1 day ago