There was once upon a time
An old man called Geppetto
Who longed to have a son
He thus took a log of wood
And started making his wooden boy!
But the wood cried and moaned
It pleaded with Geppetto
To let it alone.
But alas…
Old Geppetto continued with his mission
He paid no pity to the
Piece of wailing wood.
"You would like it once you are done"
Was all that Geppetto said.
And finally old Geppetto's wish came true
He named his boy
Pinocchio…
He loved his son like
Any loving father would.
Pinocchio too liked
His new found freedom..
He could walk and talk
Like any boy in his neighborhood.
He loved to play and disliked school
Just like any boy his age would.
But soon Pinocchio realized
The tragic truth,
That he was not a real boy.
He could not feel
Like any ‘real' boy could.
He had no tears to cry
And no heart to beat..
He could very well see what life meant
But he was desperate
To experience it himself.
But now all that he could feel
Were the strings tied to his limbs
He was at the mercy of his master,
His father..
So Old Geppetto had a son just like he wished
A son that would do as he said
For who was poor Pinocchio
Wasn't he just a puppet? ?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem