Master of Puppets

So one day I opened my eyes, and saw the strings.

Strings, attached to me. Hands, feet, arms, legs, everywhere.
One small movement, and I move correspondingly. One jerk, and I twitch violently against my will.


You, you're the one holding the other ends of the strings. And I would gladly be your puppet, moving as you command, doing as I'm told. Only my head is free, and most of the time it's focused on what the rest of me is doing.


But sometimes I look up, and wonder if you know you are the puppet master.