A puppet is no more than,
human hand in lifeless glove,
A finger cluster in one round hole,
Following one man’s orders.
The canon is filled with puppets,
Mindless but yet power-hungry,
Trapped in a snare of enticement,
Just a limp cloth around someone’s hand.
Deceptive, deceiving glove puppets
they can receive a tough break
if they’re detected and
caught pretending to be real.
Unstable ethos, hand not heart
Movable, bendable puppets,
Could pass no acid test,
Manipulable beyond doubt.
Moving glove puppets,
In someone else’s hand,
Betraying their constituencies,
Clothed in garb of dirty linen.
Airing pointless grievances
about meaningless sentiments,
Gawking with no ears, false mouth
Seeking opportunities to come alive.
But, they’re just glove puppets,
No steady footing, no foot at all,
Having others talk for them,
A hand stuck where no light shines.