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Poetry

Puppet to Queen

He used to control my strings.
He was the puppet master indeed.
Had me in circle, like rings.
Controlled my stops and my speed.

I guess my emotions were cloth too.
It’s like they didn’t matter.
Of course he knew.
I was light as a feather.

He had me on strings.
I was his puppet you see.
I got tangled in these things.
It was no longer me.

First step was for me to realize it.
And he thinks he still has control.
But my puppet costume can no longer fit.
I’ve cut myself from that role.

I no longer work under that spell.
Met me a king that is worth it.
Since then I’ve been doing well.
I’m a queen now that knows how to sit.

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by Crissy DXCII

A married, mother of a baby boy. Love writing poetry and drawing. I hope to excel in both areas.


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