Learn more about other poetry terms

O, Father you are a great planter  You’ve planted my seed in this island  and watched me grow into a tree
He's passive-aggressive, Controlling, it's true. If you will let him, He'll control you, too. No friends for you, You've got him, It is true.
I recite from the script he wrote me Memorized every line, I'm sure of it Yet I still turn to him, in fear Search his face for approval For who am I, but the new girl
The shakes, the nerves, the trembles of absolute fear I feel in the tiny hands attached to me.  They control me. They make one motion that consumes my focus entirely.  I am drowning in a sea of my anxiety.
That moment When you are so scared To lose people, You keep dangerous People in your life, And no matter how much You know you should leave, You're terrified of hurting them
Everyone else is a puppet to the Puppet Master
X, A, B, Jump, Roll, Hop Controller, Control Me, Reset the initial settings to your personal preference Warp me into the image you wish to see Use me Anesthetize me,
I come to school ready to learn wishing this day could be adjourned, I'm tired from the day before, a long workout which left me sore. My teacher is here, why not a sub? She aggravates us all, treats us like scrubs.
We walk a fine line, between tolerance and mistreatment Acting so swift with your hair tied up and your back stick straight I can see your pulse elevating by the temples on your lucid face
Subscribe to controlling