Puppet

I can feel their strings pulling on me,
Trying to control every move I make.
With each forced movement,
I’m left wondering who really owns this life that I have?

Is it I? Or is it my parents?
What’s the point of life if I cant experience my own life lessons?
Am I even allowed to ask these questions?

Is this what Jesus meant when He said “Honor your father & mother“?
To have no say in your own life and be controlled by others?
To be the slave and let your parents be the master?

Study this. Do this. Don’t do that.
Date him or her. No don’t date her.
Be this or that. Just don’t be that!
Think this. Believe this. Oh don’t believe that!

I thought I’m supposed to make my own decisions while you simply advise me.
But somehow if I make my own choices you tend to despise me.
Am I missing something? Is the word “parent” a synonym for “Control freak”?
Coz like a video game character I swear I can feel someone control me.

So here’s my brain. Don’t need it. You can do all the thinking for me.
How I feel means nothing to you. So take my heart too. You can keep it for me.
You might as well take my mouth away because you never pay attention no matter how much I keep imploring.
Instead you turn a deaf ear and keep ignoring.

So go ahead, press those control buttons.
I’ll dance to whatever tune you want me to dance to until I kick the bucket.
I guess it doesn’t really matter whether or not I love it.
After all, I’m just a puppet.

“How can you know what’s good for me when you don’t even know me?”

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