The Strings
L
Leslie Alexis
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Are you dumb?
Do you not see the string?
Feel the puppeteer’s pull
On your every ping?
Who’s the puppeteer you ask:
It is the people who read
Your forlorn poems
And cause you to
Write forlorn poems;
But even worse,
To accept your curse.
It is every love poem
That was written about
Something else
And then was
Labeled love…
Every lying word
That says:
Beautiful outside
Is beautiful inside;
Not even the sun is!
And carcasses rot from
Within, and some,
With a smile…
It is every one who
Says being different
Makes you different.
We all are different!
We are all the same…
Different!
Every promised never kept
Every jerk for who you wept
Every sinful seducing song
Every right within the wrong;
That’s the puppeteer!
In the mirror at you he stares.
Copyright © 2010 Leslie Alexis
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