Like a marionette enacting out,
In suspension and between suspended intentions,
Your every thought, and every doubt,
And then returning behind my veiled retentions
I let my victimized strings compensate,
The sudden jerks you throw between your wrists and mine,
Your reprievable reprimands and words that berate,
Can’t conquer my defeat or defeat my design
I’m no tumbleweed tumbling with the breeze,
I’m a real boy! With real feelings,
I’m no plastic toothpaste tube to squeeze,
I’m as tangible as those tangerine peelings
But here I go, again in suspension,
The blue limelight filling silhouettes with it’s hues,
Am I to dance with your ten-fingered-tension?
I was really free once; but that’s old news.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
In Suspension
by - suraj sharma on Saturday, December 16, 2006
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