he’s not a real boy
you kept him in the box
too long
he is wooden and awkward
he watches the world
with painted on eyes
he can’t make a move
without you pulling the strings
the other children
shrink from his strangeness
he lies to win their affection
with each lie
his nose grows
it pushes them further away
you played the puppet master
in attempts to craft
the perfect child
but all the fairy wishes
won’t repair the hole
you’ve chiseled in his soul


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