"THE OLD PUPPET"

Words of love they'll loudly profess,
Yet actions prove no tender caress.
Tied & restrained, a puppet you see,
I jump as they pull to fulfill their needs.

My strings now old, withered & frayed,
My smile has faded on my face of clay.
My wood has rotted, my legs are cracked,
My joints are stiff, movement I lack.

I keep thinking they'll see I'm not the same,
Let me down gently while I'm still sane.
To be what I want & not at their request,
Live what I have left, without any stress.

Or into a wind chime, my wooden legs to clang,
My arms will fly, chiming songs I will sing.
The wind is my friend, the rain moistens my hair,
My strings become strengthened with sun's shining glare.

I've jumped many miles, as they screamed Frog,
Hanging & strung while they stood in their bog.
I'm now an Old Puppet, my wish is to spend,
My last days in freedom & in peace til my end.