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The Life and Death of a Puppet…#Poem

The life and death of a puppet 

For some a creation,

A whisper, a glance.

Subconscious of builder,

With puppet will dance.


From stacks of materials

All gathered around.

Working together,

Its form to be found.


But some from a plan,

A pattern that’s bought.

Clone of another,

Its character – no thought.


For it is for another,

Its life them to give.

When built for the sale

With other, to live.


Patiently waiting

Whilst stored on a stand.

Vacant and lifeless,

Till given a hand.


Bought by another

And taken to home.

So starts the magic,

In fabric and foam.


Some lovingly cared for

And attention is paid.

But none last forever,

If repairs are not made.


Some though are just placed,

In a box with a lid.

Glass eyes in darkness,

Its character hid.


Waiting and hoping

To once more see light.

And view new horizons

Through eyes with no sight.


But a puppet left lonely

From memory, will fade.

Cause it’s only through contact,

A connection be made. 




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