How many times have the strings been pulled?
To be there, to be shown,
Then discarded to the corner
To wait for you to pull
the sting which brings me back to life.
The smile, the pretty face, the paint that hides the streaks
Of the tears that flow when needed no more.
Where did you go when my heart bleeds so?
When the hurt won't stop
and the pain grips my soul.
Crying out to you
no sound is return,
Why can't I cut and run.
Each day I die,
Not knowing why,
I stay here cold and alone,
Till the next time you pull and call out my name.
And life flows back and I come back to life.
Back by your side, for the shortest of time,
Till back to my space, the corner I go.
My home, where the tears do flow.
Till the next time you call out my name,
And life flows back, and I paint up my face,
To hid the track of the tears that had flowed.