Critical Analysis #2 |
Call Me Cathy |
openthoughts Member
since 2006-01-16
Posts 94Where the child can be free |
Each pair resting high upon its pedestal White wigged and determining My sentence is undeserved and yet they will not hear my plea For it shall never be made Caring not for past Or future. Only now, on the surface What can be judged on sight And my search continues For signs of existence And while I read them Like harsh words on a blank page they too search for signs Of bitter truths to be found. But no Only forged opinions remain For now, I am content To go hand in hand with one Living in fabricated falsities With my other around the throat Choking the will away For the hands of beauty to One pair of unknowning judge Becomes the tentacles of undying evil to the other Heart to one, bed to another With the woven tales Cast over the jury The second hand ticks Closing it's fingers tighter Tightening grip and shortening gasps So dance my puppet As I pull your strings Unwitting servants to devotion The court will not see this case Not today for sure Nor ever |
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