Puppet
The puppet sleeps soundly,
He smiles in his sleep,
Dreaming endlessly of a life unfulfilled,
A pointless life,
An empty life.
He dreams of paying obscene taxes,
He has notions of amounting to nothing,
He fantasizes about voting for tyrants,
He dreams of a dead-end job,
His life is not his own.
He has nightmares of a better life,
Nightmares of relaxation,
Nightmares of aspiring for more,
Nightmares of finding romance,
His life is that of a manikin.
His strings wait calmly,
Waiting for a new day,
A new dance,
A new missed chance,
A day closer to the rubbish heap.
And then he awakens,
This puppet is not made of wood,
But of flesh and bone,
His puppeteer is no entertainer,
But a society that doesn’t truly care.
Then the puppet puts on his suit,
And goes to work.
Thanks for the follow Harley. Enjoyed your imagery
You are most welcome my friend! Thank you kindly!
The Oldschool Harlequin