This poem has some twistingly dark messages involved. I guess it is all in the stanzas and lines. For that, I don’t have much to say on this one. I’ll leave it to the reader. Comments are open.
Dead Puppet
In broken
And decaying
Human flesh.
In skeletal form
The blood
Slowly drips.
Attached
On nearly invisible
Wires.
A single light
Shines down
Onto the
Dead Puppet
Showing the audience
Only the puppet
And nothing else.
The Dead Puppet
Hangs
From its wrists
And ankles.
The head
Slowly sags
And the body
Is dragged around
In certain actions
By the puppeteer
Above.
The rotting
Piano
Plays a sickening
Tune.
Made of
Child’s play
A blood red
Water-colored
Background
Made of the past.
The rotting skin
Is the smell
Of uric stench.
Disgustingly so
No one
Can see
In the background
The Clean-Shaven Bum
Who is counting
The money
That he stole
From the audience.
The rotting piano
Plays the scorned
Tune
Over and over.
The Dead
Human
Puppet
Drags itself around
On nearly
Invisible strings.
Perhaps it knew
That this was going
To happen
It was merely
A matter of time.
The blood
Slowly drips
From the stage.
Currently there are no comments related to "Dead Puppet". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
