A String-Puppet Named Me

Paul is an Engineer. A graduate from a Catholic University. A rebel and a romantic...

Roll out the strings

Here I am. I am your puppet

Make me dance, act or sing.

Ignore my hurts, my pains, and regrets

For I am just a silly puppet

Not worthy of respect

With emotions you will never disect.

Move that thumb and I will smile

Move those fingers and I will walk a mile

Then raise that string and I will wave

The strings have thorns so I behave.

Every night I perform

In front of faceless forms

They laugh so hard when you make me tumble

They laugh so hard when my make believe voice mumbles

You make me do all these mistakes

You make me endure the shame you can’t take.

Puppet master above the curtain

Of who you are…are you certain?

Am I you because you are my voice?

Or you are me because I speak with that voice?

Yes…the string have thorns that’s why I behave

Yes…the strings have made me a master’s slave

But the same strings are wrapped around your fingers

So you bleed as I wave…as I dance…as I linger

But you cannot voice out that cry of pain

For a cry of pain can stop the applause that pours like rain....

So make me tumble…mumble…and wave

For when you do that both you and I are slaves.

Roll out the strings

Here I am. I am your puppet.

Roll out more strings

There is the puppet master. He is also your puppet.

© 2018 Paul Balagtas