She was a puppet
and he was her master.
Standing above her
he was the one
who made her dance.
Cold-heartidly he laughed
at the power
he had over her.
Pulling each string
she did what he said.
He'd losen his grip
and make her think
she was free.
When she tried to leave
he'd tighten those strings
and jerk her around.
Weakened from tossing
her heart was breaking,
it was her life he was taking.
She was sick of his games
and sick of the pain.
Sitting cold on the stage
she looked up at him;
bitter heart and hard eyes.
She knew she could do it
and knew it could be done.
She knew he wouldn't mind
for all she was
was another piece in his
selfish game.
He'd find another
and forget about her.
It was time,
so with a deep breath
she took her teeth to the line.
Taking a stand,
one by one
she let herself go.
he looked at her
dropping it all on the floor.
He hung his head
and hung it in shame.
He didn't think
she'd finally see.
See him for what he was,
for what he wasn't.
Watching her go
his heart was breaking
knowing he was the reason
she cut herself lose
leaving him there
above the stage,
no puppet
no game.
