The puppet

He speaks but repeats

The words he's been told

Only just a hollow

With the emptiest tone

As he runs to the streets

Where he doesn't belong

 

He's not quite dead inside

Not completely gone

But his face is so sad

And his body is torn

Turned into this puppet

That others have drawn

 

They bring him to dance 

Moves that are not his

He gave them the woods

Now they're pulling the strings

He doesn't really choose

He never really leads

 

The further he stays

Further he disappears

He's caught in the laces

And the shape of the strings

Cut harder through his flesh

Leaving scars on his skin

As years are flying

He frizzes his heart

He wishes he could sleep now

And never wake up

Give his body over

To follow their orders

 

Who he is inside

He just cannot show

What if the beloved eyes

Would reject what they saw

He feels like paralyzed

Unable to let go

 

He thinks it's too late

Can't feel his wounds no more

He will soon forget

What he once swore

Turns his back on the kid

Whose dreams he ignore

 

Only himself to blame

He wasted his light

Because he was too afraid

He traded his life

Ended up with regrets

And a broken heart

Reviews

[A.Lee]

I absolutely love this. Very well written, very good imagery. I could really see the puppet being controlled, see how he feels, his regrets.

"He's not quite dead inside
Not completely gone
But his face is so sad
And his body is torn
Turned into this puppet
Whose shape others have drawn"

Loved that stanza. Very nice work!

[Kelsie Eileen Stark]

This was amazing, I love your wording, and the personification of puppets. Some times we all feel this way, but we get untangled and sometimes just cut the strings off.

[Sweets]

Great write :)

[Ashley June Canfield]

great write.