A Puppet without Strings

You are not my puppeteer

I have feelings, emotions


I can feel pain

I can speak on my own

I can love the people I chose to love

I am not bound by strings

I am not going to ask to become a "real boy" or girl or human being

I rather ask if I can be myself

But that's not a question for someone other than myself to answer

It's actually a rhetorical question

Directed to myself

Am I going to let myself continue being a doll?

A puppet?

A robot?

Will I finally demand my freedom?

Will I tell the people that I love that I want to do something more than just the expectations set for me?

Am I going to do something?

Just a millions questions floating in my head.

So many questions left unanswered 



Hope will last.

This poem is about: 


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