Tied down like a Pinocchio of sorts
Arms and legs commanded and forced to go in the direction
Of whatever is desired by the puppeteers.

This one is different, though,
She is a real girl
Already alive, living and breathing
But her wish will never be granted
To escape reality
Even if for just one night
It will never happen, she knows.

Her strings are yanked and pulled
And something, she’s not sure
Is slammed violently in and out of her
All she can do is dream
Hope that her wish will someday come true.

It will never happen
She knows.

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