The young man torn between all that he loves,
and that for which he hopes:
to be and to do.
Entrapped, and possibly imprisoned,
by the paradox of that which he wants,
and that which he feels he ought.
How he feels the tug of the strings
of a dichotomy, of the dichotomy(ies)
in which he seemingly places himself.
As if he, being both the puppeteer and the puppet,
lives imprisoned by pulling strings
that he himself will orchestrate.
Maybe he wants to cut loose the puppet
and his other half, to be cut loose,
freed from this opposing paradox.
How he feels the pull of strings
yet he himself shall pull them:
a result of reason opposing passion.
If strings are severed, the question remains,
will this puppet go limp without external
direction or with freedom step anew?
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