Your Wooden Personality Poem by anthony jones

Look at yourself now boy
where is your sense of direction?
Embrace the reflection that seeps
from the lake.

Hollow eyes burrow into yours
follow him in if you wish.
But you know you'll go under
and sleep with the fish.

Silent nights to compliment the moonlight.
As dark blankets the day gone by
inside we cry, so secretly we cry.

The puppet employed by heart strings
moved only by love and hate.
Personality; wooden,
such an incredible weight.

Close your eyes and open your mind.
A light that will blind in the place you'll find.
The answers inside won't be questioned.
The questions that hide will be revealed.
Only you can open your mind that is sealed.

Now look at yourself in the watery grave.
The tears that bled from your heart,
they filled this hole in the earth.
Such a shame this terrible waste...