Reminders and Acts

It seems no matter hard you run, you'll never be able to escape yourself. Try as I may, try as I might, I'll still always be in my sight. I'd like to live with a smile, I really would! But it's hard to do when you're vile, and your skin made of wood.
I play on my strings and I play on my stage in an attempt to keep me within my own cage. I help others before my act is done and place myself out of the sun. I help them along their path and watch them go but pain in places I do not show. Because it's painful to dabble in puppetry, when you become merely a memory.
I control my own strings and yet feel none. I shove the mask on to make it look like I'm fun. I know not to let others help one such as I, because they will always just pass you by. So look lively on your side of your Glass, and wave to all your dearest friends as they pass. because once you've helped them enough and they leave you high and dry, perhaps then you can, in your own world, die.
But don't let others read this, oh no that wouldn't do. They'll tell you all sorts of how you are wrong and fool you. You'll start to believe and you'll start to see through their eyes. But once they move on, you'll eventually see them as helpful lies. So let this text stay but play it as a joke. Be convincing, otherwise you might just choke. In the end you are in your Darkened Room, little child. Now, let's keep you contained so you don't get wild.