The Puppeteer

• Abbey Keep, Grade 9, Penguin High School
• Poetry
• 2011

Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

The Puppeteer wields his inventions,
But I cry with what intentions.
By strings they are forever bound,
With painted lips that make no sound.
He calls himself a manipulator,
But he should say dictator.
Eventually the curtain will fall,
The puppets all stand proud and tall.
The strings fall to their feet,
For now the misery is complete.
The puppeteer is not in sight,
Yet their strings are pulled despite.
In this game is another player,
Fate is the name of our jailor.
We are terrified to admit,
We are all just another puppet.