Puppet MasterA Poem by David Lewis PagetThere’s
always been something controlling me, I
knew, but I knew not what, Something
diverting and foiling me Since
the days that I lay in my cot, I
thought it was simply a parent thing As
they whispered their rules in my ear, The
things that were right and the things that were wrong And
the things I would most have to fear. They
sent me to school and the teachers, too, Must
have read from the very same book, They
always laid blame and they said it the same And
the cane lent a sting to their hook. ‘You’re
coming to learn, not to think for yourself, You’ll
repeat everything that I say, And
maybe just some of these rules will stick If
you dwell on the rules every day!’ Then
once in the world my employers unfurled All
the rules and the regs I would keep, I
didn’t last long, I’d seen them before And
told them they put me to sleep. The
government fined and unlicensed me From
a book that they said was the law, The
magistrates sat on a heap of these books As
I shrugged and I said, ‘What for?’ I
sat in the jail for contempt of court, Spent
plenty of time in my cell, The
world was consumed with a million rules Designed
to consign you to hell. I
watched all the lawyers and prisoners, cops As
they danced to the rules of the cot, And
sensed they were puppets, and most of them fools Who
would baulk at the words, ‘I will not!’ They’d
hate to be questioned, they thought they were right, If you disagreed you were canned, They’d
lock you away for a hospital stay There
was no going back, it was planned. You
had to be made to agree with their way So
they clamped electrodes on your head, Then
slide up the volts, and it wasn’t their fault If
it happened you ended up dead. They
called it Electro-therapy And
said it was doing you good, But
the thoughts in my brain they were never the same When
I came out from under that hood, I
saw the strings jerking from shoulders and heads In
a vision you couldn’t conceive, And
there were the hands that were pulling their strings When
I called out, ‘I don’t believe!’ ‘I’ve
never believed and I’ll never believe,’ I
called, and they all moved away, A
thunderous cracking of mortar and ceiling, It
all fell apart on that day. The
strings fell away from my shoulders and hands And
I knew I was finally free, And
then I called up to the Puppet Master, ‘You
won’t be controlling me!’ People
were falling all over the place As
he dropped all the strings from his hands, The
bearded Master could see the disaster, ‘You’ve
ruined my world and my plans!’ He
paused for a moment and then he was gone Leaving
people to blink in the light, The
rules were the rules of the Puppet Master Now
we can decide what is right! David
Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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Added on November 26, 2013Last Updated on November 26, 2013 Tags: controlling, strings, magistrates, therapy Author
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