Thursday, November 24, 2011

A puppet's lament

The puppeteer pulls the strings again.
Her smile widens, unwittingly. 
The rigmarole of innocence,
an acceptance of a lifetime.

An ignorant fool she wishes to be,
it's a story she has no part in;
a character she's entrusted with, 
a muted performance to be delivered.

She aches to tell the puppeteer,
"There's no one here to applaud.
Come out from behind the smoke-screen
and let go of the strings that bind me. 

Go on, build that new stage you wish for.
I want no part in it."

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