The Game
The puppet master, a master indeed
Control becomes his greatest need
When first with charm, he lures you in
And then he gives it all a spin
Now in his power you feel trapped
Your energy ever steadily sapped
You know not what to do our say
You are confused in every way
The master keeps you on your toes
He tugs and pulls that’s how it goes
Poor you, you never did foresee
That this would ever come to be
A quandary you’re in for sure
A plight that begs for a speedy cure
You hate the dance you’re forced do
You can’t belief that this is you
But like a moth who loved the flame
You knew not how to play the game.
Wendy Nipas
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