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Puppet
by Jessica A Steenbocki never wanted to admit that i was
your puppet
i stood on strings
waiting for your hand to guide
push and pull me
in your right direction
your marionette
waiting for my cue
to come and leave
when to smile and
when to frown
i looked to you
for what to say and
when to laugh
you made me cry
on command
on your every whim
i hung
suspended in air
with no ground to hold to
i cut the strings
and crashed
i'm still crashing
waiting to be someone's
puppet
09/29/2008 Posted on 09/30/2008
Copyright © 2026 Jessica A Steenbock
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 09/30/08 at 02:34 AM Lord knows I've had years where I've felt like that. Striking, powerfully done imagery. I really like what you did here. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 09/30/08 at 01:19 PM Well done lady. Many of us are held up by strings. Some have cut a few of them but someone still can tug and we'll jump as if we've put our hand on a hot light bulb. |
| Posted by Melissa Panther on 09/30/08 at 07:35 PM Loved the pull of this, great work. |
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