The Puppet Poem by Logan Glover

fatal strings are holding me
there actions dictate my ever move
holding all the keys
my heart is wide open to be improved

without them i would simply fall upon the ground
why must these strings be cut
i am unable to walk around
stuck in a rut

am i the one cutting these strings
to many that what it seems
like a knife the feeling stings
it is me who takes it to the extreme

so please just stay here
so i can live without fear