Poem: The Puppet Master

I was two beings, I admit

An outside and an in;

The puppet I proudly showed the world

And the Master who pulled the strings.


But the Puppet Master, clever girl

Concealed so none could see

Hid a truth of sadness or pain

With a face of sun and glee.


When I was down she pulled a string

Inside she hung her head.

Fooled them all with a dance of joy

When all that was true was dread.


She lived there, deep inside at work

They never saw a trace.

For every time I’d doubt my dread

She’d pull her strings with grace.





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