Mr. Puppet Man

MR. PUPPET MAN

Mr. Puppet Man
He thought he had life in the palm of his hands
But soon he realized he was not in control
Someone else, on his strings, had taken a hold
He tried to move right
But he was jerked left
He tried with all of his might
But that puppet master was deft
Mrs. Puppet Master
Mr. Puppet Man may have been fast but she knew she was faster
He did what she said and she knew that he would
He could never disobey a puppet master so good
This wooden man pranced about just like she wanted
He followed her every order as she laughed at him and taunted
Mr. Puppet Man didn't feel on top of the world anymore
He was tired and his poor wooden limbs were all sore
He didn't like being dragged all about
He felt like an imbecile, an oaf, a lout
Everyone watched and laughed at this poor puppet soul
And the more he tried to get away, the tighter the puppet master's hold
The cackling of others started to drive him insane
He just felt like a block of wood, he felt so inane
So one day Mr. Puppet Man, tired of being bossed and abused
He cut those strings clinging him to the life he hated to pursue
Sadly he sat and slowly he died
Leaving nothing but some strings, a pile of wood, and a tear from when he cried
Mrs. Puppet Master saw Mr. Puppet Man dead and alone
And she felt kind of sad for the creature, dead and sad on his own
But then she remembered she was better than that old wooden pile
And she went on to find another wooden man to beguile