Alexander Palmer

March 29, 2004 - Florida
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broken puppets

Aren't I just a puppet?
Rotting on your stagnant string,
I'll say that it's all love,
Even when you make me bleed.

And aren't I just your puppet?
Snapping my bones to fit your production,
I'll say that I don't mind it,
Through my retching and disgust.

Aren't we all just puppets?
That's what you told me, isn't it?
The world is full of pretty puppets,
I'm just the one you decided to fix.

And god, I feel my skin rotting,
I feel the strings that wind through my flesh,
But you are ever so forgiving,
You'll still take until nothing is left.

And aren't I just disgusting?
A useless tool, your broken doll,
But I'll still call you loving,
A rotting puppet dancing to your call.
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