in which you are a most accomplished
marionette
with your proper strings to be pulled
to lead you gracefully from one end
of this scuffed stage to the other
but you never let the curtain drop
you never let the grimace grin fade
and i am the sillouette
played for laughs behind you
as you move on oblivious
of my darkened being
in your own world of twitch and go
your cleverly disguised dependancy
in this distant dance between you and me
there are days i wonder
if the scissors would bring you freedom
or if you would crumble
a pile of shattered sticks
there are days i wonder
if the light would give me grace
or if i would disappear
a blur of undefined desires
there are days i wonder
who we're dancing for.
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