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Click hereDance in a helpless whirl
as if my brain were on marionette strings
guided by hands somewhere out of sight
dancing to his little songs.
Useless thoughts appear,
that perhaps I should stop moving
or maybe even stop breathing -
but bounces and twirls still come.
I looked up the other day
saw the twisted lip display
of his own dismay but determined effort
to keep the dance moving.
Around and about I go,
still hearing the song every day,
wishing more and more he'd cut me loose,
and let me fall limp on the floor.
This is a good day for simple things expanded.
A pleasant write on the marionette metaphor of life
using crisp phrasing that creates effective imagery.
Who is pulling the strings?
The choices are several and intriguing.
Well worth reading.