I walk these halls, nothing more than a puppet,
waiting for my strings to be pulled,
waiting for someone to use then discard me,
allowing them to use me as they wish
until they no longer desire me,
I let them push and pull
then throw me away,
Leaving me to repeat the endless cycle,
I wait for someone to let me go from these strings,
I wait for someone to clip these strings so I can spread my wings,
I wait for someone who actually gives a damn,
But for now, I stay like this,
bound by my thread-like chains,
being used, being abused,
allowing them to tear me apart,
allowing them to make me bleed,
I will wait forever if I must.
But until then,
I bow my head in submission
waiting for them to strike the final blow,
I close my eyes and allow them to beat me with words
I open my mouth letting out a soundless scream,
no one hears me, I suffer the silence.
I am a puppet, simply a toy for which they play
I am the silent comforter, never the comforted
I listen to them and hide my own words
I offer them my shoulder, knowing theirs is forbidden to me
I let their tears wash over me, while I keep mine bottled up inside
I allow them to use me
For I am the puppet and must not show emotion
I am the puppet...and They are my puppeteers
