The puppet masters
August 2007
Aimlessly I roam through life never knowing where I will land.
Never knowing if I will trip and fall or receive a helping hand.
I get pulled here and there, turned this way and that,
like a puppet on a string
and the sad part you see is their not thinking of me.
They master me like a fine craft
I'm trapped in the middle, there is no way to be freed.
They turn and ask me is there something I need.
They care for me and love me but control is the game.
I love and I care about them just the same.
Perhaps I need a bit of control
to help me strenghthen my soul.
For now I'll follow their lead for a while
I won't let it get me down I learn to accept this problem with style.
I really love these people you see,
these masters of me.