Puppet
by Elaine Liew 1998

Stop your brooding!
Lifet those eyes,
See that around you!
Listen!

What can justify such dormancy?
What can lay such foul a play on the strings of your limbs?
Laying there so placidly
can you hear what I say to you?
Worn and torn are you limbs.
Brown and tattered are your strings

Collapsed in the shadow of the corner are you.
Do you dare stand for another show?
Shall you reture motionless to the
confinement of the cob webbed drawer?
No, you are a soldier, play your part
Do your best and live your vigor up like the rest.
DOn't save your paint
for a day that never comes.

Do me a dance,
Show me a trick,
make me laugh,
make me cry.
Now, retire to your emptiness
***

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Copyright Elaine Liew, 1998