The Boy Who Wanted To Be A Real Puppet

I ask the blind puppeteer
could i buy your puppet
could i dance on its strings
no says the man
you are not a puppet
i do not dance with boys
just puppets

Could i be your puppet old man
i could dance on strings
you could paint me how ever you wished
you could make me act
bring me to life

no son you aren't a puppet you can move on your own
you move think talk and act of your own accord
you will not fit in with the other puppets
you will not be a good puppet you will break

All there pieces fit in perfect order
your pieces fall about you with each step
they have hearts of gold while yours rusts
go home boy you are not a puppet

i wish for strings to wrap around me
to control my movement
i wish to dance to a puppet master
and smile with the other puppets

I am a boy sir, who wished to be a real puppet
At that moment i felt the pull of the strings
and smiling let go of my humanity
now i dance to strings with a heart made of rusted gold

eternally on the shelf no different from other puppets waiting for my turn to dance before my rusted heart fades...