THE PUPPET'S DREAM
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THE PUPPET'S DREAM*
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Sunrise. The puppet stirs, yearning.
“Oh, to feel warmth of the morning sun,
to shed my strings, to be laid bare
to be more than mere display
to taste the rain, to kiss the breeze
to roam, to play, to be free.”
“My painted smile hides my inner plight.
My strings of silk are tethered by threads of fate.
I wonder if it’s worth the wait,
for what is life if not to feel,
to touch the world and to be real?”
“Though nothing but wood and thread,
I am a beautiful marionette,
following my master’s hand and mind.
Though strings may bind, my spirit soars,
returning to the stage evermore.”
*Note: Poem written for Writer Monk’s weekly Poesy & Poise Contest (Flash Poetry Contest) and published on site July 26, 2025. This is my original poem.
Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2025
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