There was no escape from the hands of puppeteers,
Who pushed and pulled,
The puppet back and forth,
To their wants and needs,
And was later placed back on the shelf;
Betrayed by the hands that she had trusted for control-
To be tossed away,
Like a Nobody.

Pressured and afraid,
The puppet feels that being controlled,
Is a necessary endeavor;
So she can be recognized,
So she can be a Somebody.

The dents and marks,
From her feeble, wooden body,
Were inflicted from regrets,

From woes,


And from betrayals;
But is that the price you pay to become a… Somebody?
Or is that what makes her the laughingstock of a Nobody?

Cut the strings,
For this puppet shall be free!
Free from those who tricked her into troubling snares,
Free from who she was supposed to be,
So she can finally become who she really is.

The one who controls her strings now,
Will be her life-
And her destiny.