I’m a puppet without strings,

but that doesn’t mean a thing.

If I try to take the lead,

the strings will tighten, and I bleed.

These strings you cannot see,

but they are there controlling me.

If I move to left or right,

they quickly put up quite a fight.

Though I hide it with my face,

the strings, they keep me in my place.

© 2009 Marsha L Brown