Den Of Poetry

The Puppeteer

She's the puppeteer
And we're on her strings dear:
She plays us, we play
She Credits us, we pay.
She slays us, We have no other choice
Other than death; and can't expect
Anything, by raising our voice!
Just like the marionettes, trapped in the painful bond of strings,
Our hearts bleed as the hooks and knots pierce through our skin;
And yet we fake being pleased to see, on the faces, the smiles our show brings.
Buried away sorrows, hidden away by our cheerful Facade
We entertain, yet no one pays attention to our tears that cascade.
Oh! To be the Master of our own minds and souls!
Let's stand against our master, together and as a whole.
She thinks she has the upperhand, but let's all prove her wrong:
For being a sadistic manipulator, doesn't make anyone strong!
She relies on us for meals, yet we suffer all the torture;
Without us She's nothing but jobless, and Darkness lies in her future.
So here we are, abandoning our "Puppet Master", to ruin her career,
While we EARN our victory as the Puppets who left their Puppeteer!

©krystalkoja

PS:- It's written in inspiration of our School Principal.