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Poetry: “Puppet King”

Something of a vaguely political nature again…


Puppet King

The puppet king
Sits on his throne
And thinks he rules the world

But puppet king
He does not see
The strings that make him move

He stands up there
Upon his stage
And words come streaming forth

Truth and lies
Are all mixed up
In his fanciful displays

His mind it wanders
In the halls
Where he now resides

Gently steered
Where’r he goes
By the handlers he won’t see

I pity him
The puppet king
His prison without bars

May he see
The dangling strings
Before he causes harm


Copyright © 2017 · All Rights Reserved · Fantasy Transcendent

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