Balloon Without a String

I was like a balloon on a child's wrist.

Being tugged and yanked, my every move was his.

All that force began to fray the tether.

He thought I'd leave him never.

Until the last fibre snapped and I rose high.

Like a space destined bubble ascending in the sky.

Being tied down can be a tiresome thing.

But now I'm more like a balloon without a string.

Stuck in one place, going nowhere fast.

Blown up only to be told it won't last.

I don't want to wait around until I deflate.

I have to be in control of my own fate.

With determination I can untie the knot.

Giving me a chance to bloom instead of being left to rot.

I'm so curious as to what the world could bring.

Like a balloon without a string.

Just the same as Pinnochio when he became a real boy.

I'm feeling that same freedom and joy.

A dog is happier when he is off the lead.

Which is what I am now that I am freed.

Some things have to be tied up for safety.

But I know that is not the way for me.

I may as well be a door off its hinge.

Because I'm a balloon without a string.