Puppeteer
Faintly you can see them, when the light
it hits just right, glimmering in the
distance, are the strings that hold
on tight
One by one they pull, jerky movements
at best, it seems the grip tightens
with every rise and fall of my chest
The illusion is close to perfect, slight
of hand to trick the mind, freedom
looks inviting, deception is hard to find
The master reveals little, the truth stays
just out of reach, grasping for the answers
is what one finds but did not seek
Painted faces looking out, behind lifeless
eyes, most never notice the truth
mixed carefully inside the lies
This is a rare talent, most will never learn
caught up in the spectacle, while the
body aches and yearns
Behind this grand performance, is a person
who plays the part, always finding solace
behind the curtain, hidden but never lost
Control you really don't possess, though it
seems you do, you realize but it is too late
the strings are being pulled, just not by
you
The puppeteer has you now, while you beg
to be let go, these strings are many and
far too strong, your fear it starts to show
You can't break free, you start to cry
tears fall down like rain, sometimes reality
is life's evil little game
Unwillingly you dance for him, it is he who
dictates the moves, stuck in this place
forever more, the puppeteer he does not
lose
© Robin Orozco 2011
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