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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 09, 2016

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Submitted: November 09, 2016



Hanging I was left by every person I adored , unreasonably . 


Left hanging by a loved one is a grievance that has become too “ cliché ” , left hanging by friends - best friends - isn’t striking either.

However its usual redundancy has no power of extracting its killing effect : yes it causes no awe anymore, but it still terribly aches . 


Hanging and Hurting are the two strings controlling the marionette I turned into today. 

Placed in a scary theatre , I perform different characters : 

sometimes I’m an introverted puppet , running away from friendships for I have been stabbed in the back many times , other times I’m a heartless puppet for I have loved and gave all of me to that person that left and shattered my heart in pieces ;


But every time I’m on that theatre, I wish that someone in the audience will cut off my strings and free me.

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