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Literature Text
I am a puppet
Enslaved by the master puppeteer
My movements are ordered
I am not allowed to have a mind of my own
It was sold away
A long with my soul
My life is a show for the world
While the master and all his little followers
Get to watch my dummy self
I am commanded by the tugging of strings
And the screeches of vulgar words
When I have gone astray from these orders
I have grown quite tired of this gruesome mess
Where you have pulled my arms and legs
For these long pitiful years
This pain you see
Has worn down my body
To nothing but useless dust
I wish I could snap these strings
So I could get away
From this living fiery torment
You thrive on my pain
And soon the pain will end
For me at least
Enslaved by the master puppeteer
My movements are ordered
Forced by the tug of the strings
Held in the palms of the master's harsh hands
I am not allowed to have a mind of my own
It was sold away
A long with my soul
When he captured and enslaved me
Neither of which will ever be returned…
My life is a show for the world
While the master and all his little followers
Get to watch my dummy self
Be put on display
Each day that comes my way
I am commanded by the tugging of strings
And the screeches of vulgar words
When I have gone astray from these orders
I am beaten and bruised
Till I have no choice but to give in...
I have grown quite tired of this gruesome mess
Where you have pulled my arms and legs
For these long pitiful years
Being forced to play your filthy tricks
Just so you can have your lovely cash
This pain you see
Has worn down my body
To nothing but useless dust
I need a savior
To free me from your evil grasp
I wish I could snap these strings
So I could get away
From this living fiery torment
That has destroyed what little life
I have left in this broken body...
You thrive on my pain
And soon the pain will end
For me at least
Because once I'm free
You best be watching your back
Literature
Mask
She wears long, baggy clothes
Because she says they're comfortable.
But roll up her sleeves
And you'll see nothing
But cuts and bruises.
Literature
I am not...
I am not normal,I'm different.
I am not plain,I'm strange.
I am not strong,I'm weak.
I am not "lady like",I'm a tomboy.
I am not gonna cry in front of someone,
I am gonna cry only when i am sure its safe to,only when on one is around
I'll act like I'm fine but inside i know I'm lying.
this is who i am.
Literature
perish.
Recollect the thoughts
for the paralyzed minds lost
to the imagined dilemmas
given by the hands from the devil.
though i get lonely
s l o w l y .
make no sound
lie awake sleeping
quietly loud while
the rest are nosily silent
imagined dangers creep
but its all an illusion
distorted reality is all
as the world spins
or perhaps the world
was left in the dark, to decay
rot in its own despair
darkness
cannot
exist
without
the
absence
of
light.
I'd like to set the world
ablaze, to perish in its
futile flames forever.
maybe then, there will
light to illuminate the
crimes gone unnoticed.
☺☻☺
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One of the topics I have wanted to write about for a while, feedback is always appreciated!
© 2011 - 2024 VampyKittenXoX
Comments98
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to icemagix2450 you obviously don't know what you're talking about. While George Orwell does an incredible job of representing a world ruled by manipulation and government chaos, Savy's poem manages to portray pain and agony in a different light. It is more likely that the work of the young writer, Savy, is a reflection on her own inner turmoil, and therefore the parallels she has drawn cannot be related to the Orwell work to which you refer. Her own pain and suffering has nothing to do with what George Orwell was writing about. As for any grammatical or spelling errors, the writer of this work is young and I have every confidence that given time she will learn to pay more attention to those little things. The basic point at issue here is Savy's talent, which is incredible in one of her age. She has an empathy and a style that is rarely achieved by many older and more experienced writers. The fact that she has the courage to put her thoughts down on paper and then share them with others is commendable. On the other hand, you, icemagix2450, should be ashamed for trying to quell a young creative mind with your nasty drivvel.