The Puppeteer Dies Poem by Stephen Brian Brady
The Puppeteer Dies
the puppeteer dies
and black sunrise
a single tear falls to her breast
white on white
bonjour tristesse
her fallen hero
twisted strings
their staring eyes
and no bird sings
that day he died
released the world from all it's strings
and under papier-mache skies
with crimsoned cheeks
and wild wide eyes
they did their burn-out promenade
yet only slightly
they delayed the brunches at the smart cafes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 12:40:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
