There tells a tale of an old puppet
Who's strings are worn and frayed
She couldn't keep up with the parts
She was constantly expected to play
Her wood is old and rotting by now
Her eyes don't shine like they used to
But if you look at her closely enough
You can see she's still smiling at you
The cracks in her carefully carved arms
Don't hurt nearly as much as that line-
That smile forever etched in her face
Which told the white lie that she was fine
People don't take second glances often
At toys that are broken and discarded
And so this poor fragile marionette
Is cursed to forever remain disregarded
But for anyone out there patient enough
To look past all of the dust on her nose
They'd see that there's more to be found
Beneath the dirt and the torn cloth rose
For this marionette wasn't just any old toy
But a loyal love to anyone she belonged to
Anyone thoughtful enough to pick her up
She'd fall for entirely within a week or two
She'd do anything to keep her people happy
Whether those things would hurt her or not
She thought they might leave her otherwise
So for their love, she continuously fought
It wasn't her owners who mistreated her
At least not in any sort of physical way
But they abused her for her will to please
And so her mental health slipped away
Her people never touched her wrongly,
But they also never cared to love her
For she was just a wooden toy, after all
No will of her own, just that of her owner
She's nothing but trash at this point
They said when she finally broke
And so they finally threw her away,
Unaware of the daggers they spoke
There tells a tale of an old puppet
Who's strings are worn and frayed
Who drove herself to breaking point
Because nobody would care anyway
