The Project of the Puppet

Have you decided?

On your dreams of satisfaction?

Are you ready?

To be the object of coordination.

The foul stench of words excercised through the lava spat out by the gossiping birds.

A chain of DNA and society strangling your neck with the bane of reality, as you glisten with your dog tags cemented on your ragged name. So remember the freedom of vision to see the orchards of the damned. To extract collision engineered with naivety which is your wisdom.

Your pathetic mess as a child reminisce of the abyss pondering to gleam with the dream of glist.

sweet sugar tasting your eyes.

A sugar so sweet dusted on tainted tiles,

lustred with artificial smiles of the hurtful breed.

A greed contradicted by your behaviour wanting a saviour,

yet oh child, it's vile to be in denial of your heart that longs for a coup'd etat.

So rejoice young child, the brain is nothing simple just like your personality that is unfortunately fickle.

So don't bicker just flicker with your light of moral and your blight of night.

A manipulative puppet, and an emotional boy.

The memories of a locket and a mimicker's ploy.