I was like a balloon on a child's wrist.
Being tugged and yanked, my every move was his.
All that force began to fray the tether.
He thought I'd leave him never.
Until the last fibre snapped and I rose high.
Like a space destined bubble ascending in the sky.
Being tied down can be a tiresome thing.
But now I'm more like a balloon without a string.
Stuck in one place, going nowhere fast.
Blown up only to be told it won't last.
I don't want to wait around until I deflate.
I have to be in control of my own fate.
With determination I can untie the knot.
Giving me a chance to bloom instead of being left to rot.
I'm so curious as to what the world could bring.
Like a balloon without a string.
Just the same as Pinnochio when he became a real boy.
I'm feeling that same freedom and joy.
A dog is happier when he is off the lead.
Which is what I am now that I am freed.
Some things have to be tied up for safety.
But I know that is not the way for me.
I may as well be a door off its hinge.
Because I'm a balloon without a string.
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