Running out of time.
Hurriedly procreating,
And feeling so sublime.
Interchanging roles.
Emptying out the souls.
Searching for their hearts,
But finding gaping holes.
Like a ventriloquist.
Unable to resist.
Voices are stifled,
Another one added to the list.
They're all puppets in his hands.
Puppets on call.
Dance for him, pretty girl.
As the boys turn their heads towards the wall.
