The Game

The puppet master, a master indeed Control becomes his greatest need When first with charm, he lures you in And then he gives it all a spin Now in his power you feel trapped Your energy ever steadily sapped You know not what to do our say You are confused in every way The master keeps you on your toes He tugs and pulls that’s how it goes Poor you, you never did foresee That this would ever come to be A quandary you’re in for sure A plight that begs for a speedy cure You hate the dance you’re forced do You can’t belief that this is you But like a moth who loved the flame You knew not how to play the game. Wendy Nipas