Roma Writer's Group

The Works of F. Robert Kelly


I am the puppet,
You pull my strings,
You make me dance,
And do your thing.

This lonely puppet,
Has no frown,
Sometimes I'm up,
Sometimes I'm down.

You say the words,
I'd like to hear,
But when I need you,
You're not near.

I am lifeless,
You've left me dangling,
On my wooden head,
A fist I am banging.

One day I'll see,
And know the truth,
That all I'll get,
Are words from you.

They have no meaning,
They are just said,
I am like the puppet,
Whose soul is dead.

I am the puppet,
I am your tool,
Please stop playing me,
For a fool.

One day there will be sunshine,
And joy,
Because I'll find out,
I'm no longer your toy.

So cut the strings,
To this heart of mine,
Stop playing with me,
I will be fine.

I don't want to be your puppet!
Do you understand?
Let me go,
And become a real man.


At last the strings,
Are finally gone,
That little toy puppet,
Is no longer alone.

© F R Kelly 2000