The Puppet


Pity the puppet!

For not wicked is she,

But unjustly a victim

Of master's decree.

And pity the master!

For puppet he is too,

Though with much power,

Thus unaware that 'tis true.

And his master,

A puppet as well!

Are not we all

Just under a spell?

So who not is puppet,

but master of all?

So high we must climb;

take care not to fall!

And here we arrive;

Lo, and behold,

That the master of all,

In crown made of gold,

Is not of man,

But an entity so great

That he fills hearts below

Not with a hate

But a love for the corporation.

Worship it, worship it! Take no surprise,

Less you will find

'Tis not a god, but demon in disguise.




Your poem is really good!

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