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gods. kings. puppets without strings.

by Nanette Bellman

always side swept, swept under, i'm used to being dust.
crumbled tiny pieces, shattered, ripped, torn and strewn about.
i was like that with you
and thought i'd be like that without you.

i knew you'd try and take any and everything you could from me.
claiming my tiny hands, my crippled body, wasn't strong enough to grasp anything
and take it back, take it for my own.

funny how you think people are meant to be kept in your pocket.
like they are toys and disposable at your leisure.
action figures to do as you command.
that you can program, which we refer to as brainwashing now.
you say jump, and they say how high.
they will think what you want them too.
they will act like you want them too.
they will say what you want them to speak.
they will believe anything you tell them too.
believe truth when all your truths and swears and promises are lies


you lived a dream most men would die for.
they worship you like a king, not knowing the devil is inside.

now try and live a life.

12/17/2009

Posted on 12/17/2009
Copyright © 2024 Nanette Bellman

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by V. Blake on 12/17/09 at 06:55 PM

"always side swept, swept under, i'm used to being dust." -- Fantastic opening line. Love it.

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