Puppet
I lie in the dark waiting to be controlled
I listen to the sounds of feet as though my box is being patrolled
My strings lay limply waiting to be pulled
Thy master thinks I have no heart, no soul. I think, he to be incredibly fooled
By his choice I am released, as the light shines upon my eyes
Knowing what is to happen next makes me wish I could cry
My life is however controlled, by the actions of thy master
One false move and all this life turns to disaster
I watch him prance me around and wish that I could tell him no
But I cannot speak, which what my heart desires so
I dream that I can one day think and move and speak on my own
But those dreams are slowly dying as they become shattered, crushed and thrown
My fragile body is sensitive to just one bang against the hard wood floor
This happens often, as thy masters fingers slip forevermore
When this first happened I assumed he to be new towards this game
But as the years went by I see no improvement to his name
He has told me stories of his dream of fame
Despite being unable to speak I listen, and hope he trains
Though there’s a part of me that wonders what he thinks he would gain
For fame is only fleeting in this world, and eventually causes pain
His skills I can feel are faulty to make it worse
And there’s a chance his profession has been cursed
For puppet masters are uncommon in this modern world of today
Yet still he seems to not care and lives his life in his own way
None the less, despite my doubts I obey and do what he tells me to do
I have no choice and this is true
When he is through, and his practice for the day is done
He places me back in my box, and this is where I have fun
When the lights go down, I attempt to move myself around
I train my joints to bend on their own
And yet still they feel like stone
I practice with thy mind as much as I possibly can
For this is my dream to become a real man
As my wooden muscles softens bit by bit, night by night
My determination grows stronger as well as my might
I plan to one day, successfully teach myself how to make my body move as one
And then escape the torture from thy master once the job is done
Yes it will be sad to leave him stranded
As his profession as puppet master has been branded
But my life means more to me than his
And when that day comes I will leave and say goodbye with a kiss
Copyright © Mimi Machakaire | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment