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The Puppeteer

The Puppeteer


The First Act

I am the Puppeteer
Come hear my tale my dear
I’ve spun a web of lies and hopes
Try to follow my many tropes

Manipulation is my game
It can bring you wealth and fame
The cost is great and the stakes are high
So many ask the question “Why?”

Alas, an answer I don’t know
Except perhaps to soothe the ego
I like to think I’m brighter than you
But now my narrative shall ensue

It all began when my temper was lost
A sacred boundary was stepped on and crossed
I lured the foul man with colorful speech
Until an officer of law was within reach

As an elocutionist of great skill
I had him strike me and appeared ill
Unfortunately this was the only revenge I had
Slightly cliché I might add

My next test subject was petit and uncertain
My hopes for her ended with a coffin
You see she adored only one thing
I was the man to whom she would cling

I lulled her with poetry and soft spoken words
She saw us as sweet young love birds
At the height of our romance I broke it off
She took her own life, neck covered in cloth

After that girl I knew I couldn’t quit
I schemed up plans and plots with wit
After a while I noticed a flaw
I had no money I realized in awe

My sudden depression turned to elation
I could test my skill on a business invasion
I found a fat cat by sweet talking his “slave”
I fired his men and sent that company to a grave

The company sank
While I was in a bank
The money I stole
Satisfying my goal


The plot thickens

I had my wealth, I didn’t want fame
I sat around and toyed with my pawns
Loving life by playing my game
I have chosen to let bygones be bygones

My new concepts and designs are far more complex
They require months of planning and years to execute
However the fruits they bear have a great effect
World order and justice is what I uproot

Chaos! Anarchy! Disarray!
The world is falling into my palm
When my plans are revealed I anticipate inveigh
Those with intellect have a qualm

When one rises up they become a new man
I can make them insane, queer or vile
He will look like a radical spawned from the Koran
As the puppeteer the world answers to me for a while

I have reached the top, my endpoint
The smart, brave and ambitious kept at bay
The dumb and ignorant I will appoint
“Veni, vidi, vici” as they say


Curtain Call

My fingers fatigued
My brain losing its sharp edge
I release the strings

The ignorant see
I reveal my true colors
The nation Uproars

I don’t try to run
This is all part of my plan
To die with a bang

I’m taken away
They strap me into my noose
I’m hanged on the spot

My flesh now is gone
At a fine and ripened age
Project a success

I’m tumbling to hell
The world follows me
I’m the puppeteer





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neonsnowgirl said...
Sept. 17, 2009 at 7:43 pm
This poem is the epitome of all well-crafted creative literature. It is extremely entertaining, and each line never fails to genuinely intrigue the reader.
 
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