Puppetmaster

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My chest is tight and my head is cloudy.
I can feel the heat of stage lights burning me.
There’s no movement from the audience as they wait.
My arms and legs are limp; I cannot move.

Shoes appear in my line of sight.
I feel something tugging at all sides of me.
Strings lift me from the cold wood and hold me up.
The puppet master has returned.

He makes me move and he makes me talk.
I am a tool for other people’s entertainment.
I can’t breathe under the pressure.
All I hear are the puppet master’s commands.

A round of applause for my performance;
I don’t even know what I did.
My head hurts and I can barely keep my eyes open.
I am dropped to the floor as the puppet master come out for a bow.

He has no need for me anymore, now that the show is done.
I am left on stage as he walks back to the trailer.
My eyelids are heavy and I cannot stay conscious.
The puppet master drives away, leaving his puppet behind.





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