Puppet strings

I am your poet puppet
Writing along to the strings you pull.
The pen dances boisterously with my desirous heart

I have a bed waiting for me at the end of this dusty road
A pillow stuffed with dreams and promises that lies in the mist of smoke and foggy nights

Hope conquers as the realization washes over this truism….
Time tells my story and I will leave no words unsaid and no string unstrung before the dirt is thrown on top of me


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s