The Puppet Poem by Anne Morgan

I am not your puppet
You can’t pull my strings

I will only dance
To the tunes that I play

Arms and legs sometimes freeze
I can’t pull my own strings
Paralysed by fear

I am the puppet
And the puppeteer

So I take a knife
And I cut those strings

They were holding me back
But now my spirit soars free

I lose myself in the rhythm
Of the up tempo beat
As I clap my hands
And stamp my feet

Anne Deborah Morgan
October 2009