Puppet strings pulled
Up and down by the master, yes sir
What sir, who sir, which sir, of the masters, sir
Peculiar steps taken on command
Mental slavery, of no I can't be bothered, dullness
Leads to the let down, fall of ambition strings
Puppet strings of the lazy, in lazy town, adamant
Going no where, in couch potatoes, fabricated reasons
Entangled tied in nuts and set in comatose
What sir, who sir, which sir
Of the masters to hold my strings, sir
Pulling me on time demand
Now the question becomes, when are we totally free to be? Our strings are pulled at home, work, wherever in some way don't you agree?
ReplyDeleteEnjoy the rally!
http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/03/27/delirium-2/
Well done, Kodjo, and something that must be said. Kudos to you for saying it and say it so well.
ReplyDeletePoem on ...
Happy Potluck!
ooo entralling! being the puppets of life! cool!
ReplyDeletePuppets on a string aren't we all.Great poem.
ReplyDeleteKodjo, the difference between being a puppet or not depends on whether we let ourselves be manipulated. I was, as a child, but cut the strings years ago. It's probably why I survived!
ReplyDeleteThanks for a great take on the prompt. Here's a little 3WW laugh for you:
http://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/04/06/all-in-a-name-3ww-npwm-6/
Peace, Amy
brilliant take on the theme. we all are puppets of one thing or the other, mostly.
ReplyDeletetrisha
http://mydomainpvt.wordpress.com/2011/04/04/free-soul-4-4-11/
you combined both the themes perfectly.
ReplyDeletetrisha
http://sharmishthabasu.wordpress.com/2011/04/08/the-visitor-for-3ww/