as the days fall
my perspective on life changes
like the pages in a book
each different but yet similar
each time u look u think back
their comes a time when u stop
and wounder y?
look back on past pages
and re look what has happened
and find a reason y to cry
looking back brings nothing good
pulling at the wounds of sorrow
like a puppet on a stage held by its strings
do what its told and nothing comes or goes
page by page i rip out from the journal that lays
it bleed as its fate slowly fades away
several marks on all, yet so many left blank
to tell the true of what has not yet been gained
follow the pages for its ur path to change ur look on things
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the life of a puppet
his eyes ever so white so plain to the naked one
his arms held up by strings
like the master giving command at his whim
forces to dance with a frown upon his broken will
with nothing to live for but his fate at self
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x_Sweet_Demonic_Dreams_x Community Member 
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