Poetry: Chains - by Cordelia Riordan

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by Cordelia Riordan

Created on: October 10, 2008

Freedom From the Mold

I've spilled out of myself,
No longer chained to the marionette strings.
They'd played with me,
A puppet whose worth was judged by how well she let them play.
A weapon, a bargaining chip.
Love me not for what I am,
But mold me into your desire and then
Shove me aside.
I've fallen without my strings,
Broken my mold and now formless.
Lost, desperately holding onto the illusions that
I am strong, I can form myself.
Trapped inside a shell, adapting to what
I am unused to.
Can you find me, help me right myself?
Can you free me from my fears?

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