I am a puppet on strings that longs to be free,
Controlled by one or another, I just can’t be me.
I get to be myself for a while,
Lost in my rhythms, away from exile.
But soon I’m pulled from both directions,
They are trying to show me their affections.
Pulled until the strings snap,
Pointed in so many directions without a map.
I’m okay, but not always with pride,
Maybe I’m being sucked into the tide.
Just a puppet on strings still sitting there,
Many people over flooding with care.
I can control myself now, but can you?
Trying to make me do the things you want me to.
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