Puppets of Despair

By Naima Mehaboob

I wonder how many choose to bleed on page

Because they were afraid to pull the trigger

To tie the rope, to take the fatal fall

Their heart slowly dying inside the ribcage

Because they know they’ll never be the victor 

For we all are just mere puppet dolls

Dolls to play along

Even if it's them that's wrong

We write what we cannot scream

We write for broken hearts and broken dreams

Each verse a pulse, each word a plea

Each poem a reason not to die

Each poem a scream to be set free

By Naima Mehaboob