The Puppeteer
A poem by Nickie | June 9, 2026
Come one, come all!
Witness
the puppeteer and his dolls!
Filling stages and
banquet halls,
he can barely control them all.
Some for the night,
some for the day,
all for whichever part
they need to play.
The laughs are plenty,
the cheers are loud.
They entertain
a clueless crowd.
Baby hairs
clutched in hand,
ragdoll legs
too weak to stand
If the crowd questions,
excuses abundant,
universal truth,
lies redundant.
Seamless steps and speech and smiles,
eyes like glass,
vacant for miles.
Broken, stained, and painted faces.
The hits land and his heart races.
For the door? No,
for another
sadistic high like no other.
If one breaks,
tossed into a pile.
He never mends.
It's not his style.
Why didn't she leave?
Others will say,
as they find their seats
for the matinee.
