A puppet on a string.
Creepy.
Surreal.
Never in control.
At someone’s beck and call.
It must end.
Before it’s too late.
Before I turn to wood.
Before I become a Pinocchio.
No puppet life for me.
I will stand up for myself.
I will throw off my strings.
I will walk on my own.
I will be free at last.
Never to be
someone’s puppet
ever again.
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