Little Puppets

Anna Martin-Hill

My strings Threaded around each of your limbs I control your every movement And I laugh at your ignorance

My pretty little puppet Doing whatever your puppeteer wants Oh, how stupid you are As if purposely turning your head To the monster I am

Moving the strings along I make you dance for me I make you sing for me And once the strings are cut You still dance You still sing

You’re forever my little puppet