Sitting in their midst
Living in their times
The clock chimes
Three times
Prompts the bell to a dingdong,
Me to their labyrinth
Matted to their tale
Listening to their mendacity
Hiding in my whines
Observing the smiles
That are frowns from inside
Laughing
Yet indifferent from within
Tickles
That aggravate to the bone.
Applauding their act,
Marionette by their strings
A puppet to the heart
That’s slavery indeed.
©Sherae
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