Author's Notes: I am posting this in honor of Betsy, cuz she liked it.

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own WA3.

3333333333333

The tears bleed away

From his eyes

As he cries

Out in anguish.

A total lack of life

Created, not born.

What is a puppet without it's master?

Merely garbage.

A total void of life

Unable to move

Without the strings

That control him.

Memories

He longs to be free

His stiff wings

Chained to the life of a

Golem

Tell him

Did you play with dolls when you were younger?

But where are the now?

In the attic, the closet?

Unchanging, gathering dust

And forgotten.

You forgot him.

He is cursed with his youth.

3333333333333

A/N: Yeah...I wrote this in writing today 'cuz we are doing poetry. I stole some lines from my other blurbs so if it looks familiar...:whistles and walks away: See Betsy? I posted it despite my personal distaste for it! Aren't you proud?