My Puppeteer
Pull my strings, or I can't walk.
Pull my lever, so I can talk.
Made of plastic, with no heart.
As you wish, to tear apart.
Put me back, on my shelf.
I am no good, by myself.
Round and round, so we go.
You pull my strings, that's all I know.
Copyright © Mike Sacks | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment