Balloon Strings

Pop, pop,

Balloon strings hold my hands.

They fling me to the sky,

like a pop, pop doll.

Pop, pop, you go.

Balloon reds and balloon blues.

Up high I go.

“Pop, pop” you go.

You say ‘cut those, my strings’

But they’re not your strings.

They’re my strings,

my balloon strings.

You ask ‘Why pop-pop, with balloon strings?’

balloon strings, on my hands.

‘You’ll fall’ you say.

But I didn’t pop-pop, with balloon strings.

You popped, with balloon strings,

balloon strings, on my hands.

My balloon strings.

Please don’t let me fall, balloon strings.

Pop, pop, you go.

‘I don't want to see you go,’

‘I can’t let you go,’

Pop, pop above me.

Pop, pop, below me.

Pop, pop, to have me.

But I’ve already tied

my balloon strings.

Why would you pop-pop,

with balloon strings

on my hands.

You popping man, let go of my strings.

You popping man, don’t untie my strings.

Pop, pop you go.

Down, down, I go.

Balloon strings wrap around me,

Balloon strings ground me.

Pop pop again,

Down, down again.

With you,

again.