Sadly to the old man's parents, he had always been a mere puppet
Broken strings and a loss of guidelines had caused him to slowly
plummet
With no one to guide him, he silently abided
To sink away in his thoughts
He blocked out his family, children, and friends help,
and became mentally distraught
If only he had listened to the beckoning hands that, reached out to collect his frail strings
But he didn't want guidance, he didn't want help,
He constructed his own disformed wings
He flew away in the depths of his mind and formed himself a new reality
Little did he know, all this tampering with himself,
Could cause a malfunctioning
Surreality
YOU ARE READING
the sound of my emotions
Poetryall of our emotions make a sound, and this is the melody of mine