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Brain Man
September 23, 2013
He’s rifling through my memories
Like files left to be organized
By caring hands and a steady gaze
He uses my eyes like telescopes
And forces his voice through my throat
What I see, he sees
And I do whatever he says
Over him I have little control
I am at his mercy
He is my blessing and he is my curse
I must be careful not to displease him
I am his puppet and he is my master
All his wishes are my commands
One day soon I’ll cut the strings
But when I do, I’ll only fall
© Flynn O., Novato, CA
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This article has 2 comments.
PirateCountry DIAMOND said...
on Dec. 31 2013 at 7:43 pm
Thanks very much!
