Puppet

The silence is stunning,
The brilliance of a master at work,
Like a silent film I sit and wait,
Wait for words of instruction to come,
But they fail to gain inertia through the air,
And I am but a puppet with no strings,
Saddened and lonely that my master is so quiet,
His will so faint through this lonely air,
And now look at me, I am hollow inside,
A castaway forgotten and left to slump here,
Forever more my days covered in dust,
I can do things and make my master happy,
But he has forgotten me,
And I am nothing now but a puppet with no strings.

P D Dawson (darkimagination)