The Grand Puppet Master

It cuts like a dagger’s edge,

Or a thousand razors at once,

It burns as the sting of the blades,

Expose each lesion,

Fresh wounds layout in the open,

It cuts like a machete’s edge,

Or a thousand razor at once,

It burns as the sting of the blades,

Expose Each lesion, wounds in the open,

Another layer of heartache,

Revealing yet another suffrage,

For which I am not prepared for,

I was aware it was steadily approaching,

That it would soon come to pass,

It did not occur to me,

That it would happen so fast,

Or that it would hurt me this much,

Down every hallway leads to yet another,

Closing door in my face slammed shut,

Every good that happens so rarely,

Comes with 10 more bad that quickly follow,

Every early morning’s dawn,

Is rapidly shadowed away,

Hidden so quickly after it breaks,

By midnights darkest blanket,

Spotted with the slightest twinkling,

Of the brightest stars,

That serves as a glimmer of hope,

That lies within every obstacle,

Only to be smothered out,

When the sun starts to shine,

And the days beginning in newly born,

Each new chapter in my life’s storybook,

Ends abruptly before the plot even begins to unfold,

My fairytale is over,

Before my story gets told,

When I find myself atop victory’s peak,

Joy can never be found,

Stay long, or hold steadfast,

For I know it is only a matter of time,

Before something hell-bent on my failure,

Knocks me to my feet,

Another layer of heartache,

Revealing yet another suffrage,

Another slash to the metaphorical flesh,

Cutting soul-deep,

For which I am not prepared,

I was aware it was steadily approaching,

That it would soon come to pass,

It did not occur to me,

That it would happen so fast,

Or that it would hurt me this much,

That it would cause this much pain,

Create this much damage,

Leaving behind such carnage,

Scar tissue it’s only reminder,

That down every hallway leads to yet another,

Closing door in my face slammed shut,

Every good that happens so rarely,

Comes with 10 more bad that quickly follow,

Every early morning’s dawn,

Is rapidly shadowed away,

Hidden so quickly after it breaks,

By midnights darkest blanket,

Spotted with the slightest twinkling,

Of the brightest stars,

That serves as a glimmer of hope,

That lies within every obstacle,

Only to be smothered out,

When the sun starts to shine,

And the days beginning in newly born,

Each new chapter in my life’s storybook,

Ends abruptly before the plot even begins to unfold,

My fairytale is over,

Before my story gets told,

When I find myself atop victory’s mountain peak,

Joy can never be found for long, or hold steadfast,

For I know it is only a matter of time,

Before something hell-bent on my failure,

Knocks me to my feet.

Nothing is ever true or real,

No one ever really tells the truth,

Or is honest about how they feel,

I am but a mere puppet,

Everyone else is pulling the strings,

Controlling my every move, every thought,

I am not in control,

Everyone else can say or do as they wish,

Treat me how they please,

I am only to do as they want,

To bend to everyone’s will,

A pawn to perform at the drop of a hat,

A slave to the Grand Puppetmaster.