We are not the puppeteers,
Only the marionettes.

We all perform mechanically,
The ones bigger then us all jeering,
We all stand below them, looking up dispirited.

We open our mouths to speak,
Our voices not our own.
And when we do our foolish dance,
Our feet tap at the same tone.

Our painted smiles are all alike,
And our arms all move as one.
Our rigid bodys are so cold,
We might as well be gone.

For I am not the puppeteer,
Only the marionette.
And any ideas in my mind,
Don't mean a simple cent.

We have one life and only one.
So why are we so small?
I snip the strings above my head,
And scoff the ones so tall.

For now I have no puppeteer,
I am no marionette.
I will begin to dance my own dance,
And thus slowly earn respect.

And before their eyes,
I will gain size.
I will be no marionette.

And despite my strength and knowledge,
I will be no puppeteer.