| A Distress Call To The Blue Fairy I am a puppet, A puppet made of flesh and blood And unseen strings. I have as many puppet-masters As I have so-called friends. They all get a chance To pull these threads of mine. My words, my movements, Are theirs-- The puppet-masters’. Puppets don’t think on their own, They simply perform. I perform In many shows. Puppets don’t think. What happens when a puppet hangs limp Without a master? Blue Fairy, where are you? Please, turn me into a real girl. But the puppet is a thief And a liar. She has stolen Too many hearts. Are my lies Their lies? Or are my lies About myself And the feelings I don’t have? Puppets have no feelings. Then why is my wooden heart breaking? Blue Fairy, I am not deserving. The painted smile Is fading. The strings Are wearing thin. They’re ready to snap. I want to cut them loose, But I am afraid That without them, I won’t know how to live. I don’t know how to live. Puppets can’t live. They can’t leave In the middle of the show. I don’t want to be a puppet. Blue Fairy, I need you. |