Puppet

Don’t be a puppet on a string. – Michelle Liew

πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅

They tugged my strings

With sugar-covered hands

I moved on cue.

πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅

Till one day, 

I stayed. 

Wood cracked.

πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅

Truth within shattered splinters

I ran away,

Unscathed.

Now I prance

With the flowers in the breeze,

To no song but mine.

πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅

πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅πŸͺ†πŸͺ‘πŸ§΅πŸŽ­πŸ•΄οΈπŸͺ†πŸŽ­πŸͺ’πŸͺ†πŸ§΅

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