personal, poetry, writing

Poem: Those Are Strings, Pinocchio

Careful what you wish for
It might just come true
A house
A home
A heart
Difference in the details
Brings a soul to life
(Now I’m free,
Got no string on me)
How do you make a soul?
How do you break a heart?
Little wooden boy,
I can see your beating-bleeding-heart
(And its dripping through the bars)
Those are strings Pinocchio
Not so different from the first
If you want to know the truth
You’ll tell a lot of lies
If you want a little love
Then you’ll have a lot of hurt
If you want to be a real boy
You’ll have to make new ties
Cut the strings Pinocchio
And you’ll hit the ground
(Your soul’s to weak to stand alone,
A devils deal –
You’ll get your wish
And keep your strings too)
Those are strings Pinocchio
Nothing real is unattached
(Sorry no one told you,
Being real isn’t the same as
Being happy)

1 thought on “Poem: Those Are Strings, Pinocchio”

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