fiance, student, homeschool retiree, preschool teacher wannabe, Senior Living Coordinator, writer of many things unsaid, blogger, lover of the creative, most cheerful depressed person, devourer of books, crafty wanna be, amateur tech support, internet junkie, facebook stalker, tweeter of tweets, Pagan, friend, sister, daughter, aunt, karaoke super-star


By A. Hunt


I feel like a puppet
Dangling lazily from strings
Mechanical movements
And hollow dreams
A sense of emptiness
In my mahogany heart
In my ply wood soul
Breathe in
Breathe out
Paralyzed sense of hope
My eyes have become mimes
Signing out my true intents
To a Blind audience
I long for something more
More then the life I’m living
As deaths whore
Heavy drops of rain fall from the ceiling
As the blue blue sea of the floor below
Carry me away
In a sleepless dream
I break the silence
By acknowledging the pain
That slowly drives me insane
As I sit upon this shelf
A puppet
Dangling from strings

4 COMMENTS (click here!):

breymom said...

Wow April you are such a wonderful writter you amaze me!

April Mitchell said...

I wrote this when I was 16...teen angst fuels creativity

alfrhnsby said...

Beautifull ..!

Berst Rhenys said...

Nice poem. I have some on my blog too if you are interested.

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