Puppets 。。。

Puppets 。。。

We play it when we have nothing to play 。。。

When others are not around 。。。


Everyone of us have puppets of our own 。。。

And everyone of us are one among the puppets of someone or many 。。。


We often talk to it 。。。

We always share everything with it 。。。

We even cry on its shoulder 。。。


Rather than a warm and lively human  。。。

We always choose the puppet 。。。


We control the puppet 。。。

And so it act as what we want 。。。

It follows all the instructions given 。。。

It agree with everything we say 。。。


We pull the string 。。。

It lifts it's hand 。。。

Again we pull the string 。。。

Again it lifts it's hand 。。。



A puppet 。。。

We don't feed them 。。。

We don't always have to clean or service it 。。。

Just 。。。


Whenever we need it  。。。

We take it out 。。。

And hug 。。。

Cry 。。。

Shout 。。。





Being a puppet is such a pathetic play in the scene of life 。。。

They are always the last option 。。。

Always the leftover 。。。

Always the victim  。。。


They are strong indeed 。。。

But yet they will be hurt 。。。

Badly hurt 。。。

And no one ever cares 。。。


In the cupboard 。。。

Forever they are there 。。。

Until the day where the dust covered them up 。。。

Until the day when the string can't take anymore stress 。。。



Puppets 。。。

Stand up 。。。

Walk away from the cupboard 。。。

Pull off those strings 。。。

Live for yourselves 。。。

And shine 。。。


Just like Hinokio 。。。