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chosh part one

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back for a bit

18:08 on Wednesday, Jan. 09, 2002
"Something's wrong with this world...or so says my poem"

People

Strung on strings

Strings make their hands dances

Make their feet dance

Dance, move forward

Forward towards

The source of their strings

The puppeteer

-

They follow

Pulled inward, pulled by a force

A force

Monotony

-

Monotony

The same, unchanging

Over and over, same old same old

-

Pop culture

Is fed, forced through their veins

Drilled into their brains

Further

Pushed in til their souls pulsate it

Monotony

Over and over

-

Humanity

Is wrapped up in bubble wrap

Bouncing back and forth

Down a path, continuous and long

Dark and unwinding

Over and overly monotonous

-

You're just a waste of space

If fed by monotony

A waste of space, of life, of soul

If you color within the lines

And allow yourself to be fed

By the hand

By the puppeteer

Like the rest

-

A bubble can be popped

And blood replaced

Monotony can leave

And a person can change

-

So why don't you pull of those strings

Those controlling, restraining strings

And move your own hands and feet

-

It's because you're a marionette

Flesh and blood

Harden into wood

Dead life

Living death

-

You can't let go of those strings...

-

...Or can you?

-Chelsea

P.S.: That happens to be property of me!!! And I am very proud of my work, so don't you dare steal it! And if you did read this poem, could you leave me a message in my gbook or a note thru dland and tell me what you thought? Could you do that? I like hearing what people think of my poetry.