Your Puppet

A puppet once did play
But now, crushed I lay
Strings so often pulled
Have suddenly frayed…
A game grown old,
No more to be played.

A fool, I admit, with
Much guilt and shame.
My ignorance, above all
Is most to blame.
Blind trust I must
Confess was dumb…
It matters no longer,
You’ve had your fun.

Strings so often pulled
Have somehow mended,
The game grew old
But never ended…
A short struggle only
For I knew you’d win,
Your puppet I find
I am again.

-Camille Cheek
6 June 1978