Performance Poem by Naomi Waters

The voices have control
Behind the curtain
They run the show
Who dictate everything
Even the words that are spoken
To maintain their power
Their toy is led by hooks and strings
That plasters a smile on their face
Directed by a puppeteer
The one who is a slave becomes a puppet
Dancing and singing on a hidden stage
Trying to get all to look away from the truth
The audience sees nothing more than an actors mask
A performer
That has become buried in the performance
They spend so long practicing their craft
The difference between the lie and who they are
Has been lost in the audiences applause