Formula

It's a slowly moving formula,

And I anticipate how long you'll play out.

Starts out the same each time;

With brick walls I lay around me,

And I'd like to think I layed them down thicker than before,

(But now I realize that perhaps my walls are thinng).

Intrigued by my design,

You manage to tear me down,

-In record time-

Only to discover a puppet on a string,

For you to manipulate anyway you like,

(For I have grown to trust and depend on you).

Yet like a child,

You bore with your new toy within the hour;

Leaving me lifeless,

Unable to move,

(A will once mine now given to you).

...And from time to time you come back to play...

(And it seems that's the only time I'm living).

Until one day you grow up;

This faze is over,

(As you willingly cut all ties from me to you).

Now broken,

My strings have no one to move me.

...Dust piles up...

I build up a stronger wall to surround me then before,

(though the glue that holds it together is thinning out).

I rety my strings to myself for a while.

And the pattern begins a new.

It's a formula you see,

(And the answers always the same).