Charred Words

Standing in front of the house,
The one I had heard a hundred stories about
I saw you rise into the air 
Like the black smoke, you used puff once
I felt you turn into the ashes
Like the ones that burnt me on the bonfire on New Year's Eve
Only, this burn won't heal as easily.

As we drove away from the
Hamlet of your Childhood Tales
I noticed something missing,
With a looming feeling of emptiness 
Like the times we would leave for a vacation 

Only to realise that we had forgotten something to pack
Yet, this time the article can't be replaced.

The next day, 
I found your eyes in the mirror,
The silver glass showing me your young gaze,
Not wrinkled with your wisdom yet,
Like the ones we saw in black and white photographs of you
Except, these are too sad to be yours.

A few weeks later,
I heard you in my voice, 
The same tone resonating in my ears
Like the sound of your annoyance with a touch of humour 
Just, lacking the heaviness that yours carried with ease.

Today,
I read you in my poetry 
My pages covered in words of you
Like fresh 'mint leaves' as you described them often
But, these words, seem to be too charred to be you.

Puppet Strings

Hello! No strings? Well you seem to be new. Let me show you around. 

It is a busy street, so you better keep up okay?

Over there, in the workshop by that tall building, that's where all the strings are made, you see, just like the ones on my arms and legs. 

What exactly are the strings you ask?

Well, they're on every person around here. They teach us submission and obedience. The strings go from here all the way up to the sky. 

Oh look, those are my friends, they're great though they don't really say much, the strings don't really let them. 

Anyway come on, come on. Do you see those people who are tied up? They tried to cut their strings. You never cut your strings. 

Cutting your strings gives you freedom, we're not allowed to have that. 

Freedom is good you say? Haha rubbish, who put that silly thought in your head, of course not. 

Moving on, that grey building you see over there, yes that's my house, would you like to come in?

No? Okay. Let's have tea in that tea shop there. I love their tea.

So do you have any questions? 

Oh, who controls the strings you ask?
The man in the sky of course.